Matters of the Heart
by MJoftheday
Summary: Her father's will reads that in the event of his passing, she is to marry the Duke's son and take the throne with him as her king. Now Snow White must make a choice: To obey her father's dying wish and tie herself to William forever, or to follow her heart... which lies with a filthy, grumpy huntsman.
1. One

**Disclaimer:** I do not own_ Snow White and The Huntsman_, nor am I affiliated with it in any way.

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**One.**

Snow White sat atop a simple bed in her temporary room. She'd requested to not sleep in the master chambers until all of her stepmother's things had been burned to the ground. Beith had suggested a ceremony be held right outside the castle grounds in which everything Ravenna owned was cast into a fire. Snow had thought that to be a lovely idea and had requested such a ceremony to be planned at once. But first, she had other matters to take care of. Much scarier matters than bonfires. Matters of the heart.

Her first act as queen had been to appoint Greta as her lady in waiting. She'd asked Greta to find the huntsman and tell him that the queen was requesting his presence. She would've told him herself, but he had been nowhere to be seen during the celebration ball that was held immediately following her coronation.

And now Snow was nervous. Not as nervous as she had been before rampaging the castle in hopes of ending Ravenna's poisonous reign, but these were a different kind of nerves. These weren't scary nerves. They were good nerves. Hopeful nerves.

She was suddenly wary of her appearance. Which was silly, she thought, since she had gone nearly a decade without seeing it. She tiptoed over to the small mirror above the table against the far wall of the room and looked in it to see a flushing young woman. Her bright green eyes were widened at her own reflection. Her lips were curved slightly downward and she quickly adjusted them into a straight line. Her hair was still in its intricate 'do from the coronation ceremony, despite the fact that she was already dressed in her night clothes and the crown was already locked up tight in its safe. She tugged on her hair and pulled out a few pins until her dark locks fell, flowing in waves down her back and over her shoulders. She combed through her hair with her fingers and actually started to smile a little at her reflection.

It was then that she heard a set of rushed footsteps coming towards her room and turned to the door. Greta entered hurriedly into the room, panting. "Majesty!"

Snow put her hands on Greta's shoulders. "Greta! Greta, what is it? Are you alright? Has something happened?" Several terrible instances ran through her mind at once. Would she have to play queen already? This soon? Could she not have one night of rest? And what worse... what if someone was hurt? Muir? William? ..._Huntsman_?

"Queen, the huntsman is gone!"

Huntsman.

Snow's thoughts were going a million miles a minute. It took her a few moments to slow them enough to reply. She backed away slowly from Greta. "He's... gone? To where?"

"I don't know, ma'am. He wasn't in his assigned quarters and no one has seen him since your coronation!"

"Well, did he leave anything behind?"

"No, ma'am." Greta frowned. "All of his belongings are gone."

Snow's stomach dropped to the floor. "No." And she took off running.

She ran down the hallway, down four flights of stairs, through the main courtyard, and found herself at the main gate. Several guards and servants had tried to stop her and offer their help, but she kept running. And now she was at an end. And the huntsman was getting away.

Frustrated, she began to pound on the iron gates with her small fists. "Open this gate! Someone... open it! Hurry!" The thought occurred to her that she was making a fool of herself on her first official night as queen, and that maybe she was being a little hasty, a little rash. But if the gatekeeper had been sleeping, he was surely awake now.

The guards stationed outside the gates were facing Snow, assuring her that everything was just fine and signaling for the keeper to lift the gate. It didn't open up as fast as Snow's legs wanted to take her, and she ended up ducking down beneath it and running out before it was all the way opened.

She ran a few yards into the night before realizing that she hadn't thought to bring a torch with her to light her path. The two gate guards had followed closely behind her and nearly ran into her from behind when she stopped short.

"Huntsman!" she called into the darkness before her. "Huntsman, I know you're out there! You cannot leave me again! I will not allow it!" Snow actually stomped her foot on the ground like a child throwing a temper tantrum. She felt silly all of a sudden. She could, of course, as queen, command her huntsman to stay. But that would be abusing her powers, and she would not have herself be like Ravenna in any way.

"Would you like us to call some to go after him, Your Majesty?" one of the guards asked, his breath visible in the cool night.

Snow took a deep breath and patted down her nightgown, righting herself. "No, thank you. I assume he'll make it to the outer villages before sunrise. He will be quite alright there." She smiled at the two men reassuringly. "Come," she said. "Let us go and rest. We've all had such a long day."

As she headed back inside the gates, Snow was sure her huntsman was far gone by now. Maybe she would send a party after him tomorrow, just to make sure he arrived to his village safely.

Hopeless, she made her way back to her room. Many stopped her on her way up, but she assured them all that everything was perfectly alright and apologized for alarming them. After nearly an hour of restless tossing and turning, Snow rose from her bed and began aimlessly walking the halls. She hadn't seen these walls and room and quarters and passageways since she was just a girl, lost in the throes of prepubescence and haunted by her mother's death and her father's scarily beautiful new bride.

She didn't know where her feet were taking her until she was there. She rapped lightly on the door to William's new staying room. He answered immediately.

"I'd hoped it was you," he said with a smile. "Couldn't sleep either, eh?"

She smiled back and shook her head. "Not at all. It seems that being in charge of an entire country can leave you pretty restless."

Her childhood sweetheart chuckled. "Who would've thought?" he said teasingly. He reached out and brushed a few strands of stray hair behind her ear. "You seem troubled by something... Would you like to go and sit somewhere?"

Snow sighed and nodded. "Yes, that would be lovely. I'm afraid I've forgotten where the various sitting rooms are located, though."

William stepped out from the threshold and shut the door behind him. He wrapped his arm around Snow's tiny frame and led her down the long hallway. "Come," he said. "I know a perfect one."

The two friends walked down the hallway, around a corner, through a corridor, down a flight of stairs, down another hallway, and finally through a pair of wide double doors. Snow White gasped as she took in her surroundings. She remembered this place...

Snow walked into the room and sat down on a huge velvety red sofa with a wooden frame embellished with gold pieces. She stretched her arms across the seat cushions and caressed the soft throw pillows. William took a seat next to her. He was still smiling.

"My mother and I used to sit on this sofa," Snow began. "She would comb and braid my hair and tell me stories of her father and two brothers and how they would've adored me had they not been killed in the early war. My father would bring us warm tea with mint leaves and he would hug and kiss my mother and I would watch and think how lucky they were to be so happy and in love. And then they would each take me up in their arms and we would all sing together..."

Snow closed her eyes and remembered the sweet melodies her parents had taught her, and before she knew it, she was humming along, and then she was singing aloud.

"This sweet and merry month of May,  
While Nature wantons in her prime,  
And birds do sing, and beasts do play  
For pleasure of the joyful time,  
I choose the first for holiday,  
And greet the Kingdom with a rhyme:  
O beauteous Queen of this dear county,  
Take well in worth a simple bounty.  
All is well under your reign,  
And should the darkness come again,  
I shall harbor no needless fear,  
For I know our King will end all drear."

When Snow opened her eyes, William was gazing at her lovingly. "That was beautiful, my queen."

She rested her hand against her old friend's cheek. "You must still call me 'Snow', my dearest William."

William sighed and let his eyes shut as he leaned into her touch. "As you wish, my Snow," he all but purred.

At once, Snow was strangely reminded of the huntsman, and she dropped her hand in shame. She felt her cheeks flush and knew that William would assume their color was meant for his enjoyment. She quickly changed the subject. She was eager to clear up a few things between the two of them.

"Remember when I bit the poison apple in the clearing?"

William's brows furrowed at the painful memory. "Of course I do. I'd thought I'd lost you again. Forever."

"But it was you who handed me the apple, William. Why else would I have taken it?"

William's eyes widened in shock and he shook his head violently. "No, Snow, I can assure you that it was not I!"

"No, no," she said quickly, ashamed for alarming him. "I know that now. But I'd thought it was you. Ravenna, she... she took on your form, disguised herself as you. And when you offered me the apple, it reminded me of our childhood games. And of course I'd taken it..."

Snow teared up the memory, and William quickly took her in his arms. "Shh, shh," he cooed. "It's alright now. You're here with me and Ravenna is dead and gone forever. There's no need for tears."

She pulled herself away from him and wiped at her eyes. "But she tricked me, and I fell for it without question. I had believed it to be you. I'd laughed with you. I'd kissed you..."

"You... You kissed me?" He grinned a bit at this revelation, not even attempting to suppress it.

"Yes. Right before I bit the apple. Of course, it wasn't really you... It was her..."

William looked down at his hands nervously. "I, too, have a confession to make. When you fell, I ran to you. I held you. I kissed you."

"You did?" Snow feigned surprise. She had been mentally and emotionally present the entire time she had been under Ravenna's paralyzing spell, but for some strange reason she didn't want William to know this. "I don't remember."

He looked up at her slowly. "I just... I had already lost you once... I feared I was going to lose you a second time... I'm so, so sorry, Snow. I shouldn't have ever left without you on that dreadful day so long ago. If I had known what Ravenna had planned to do to you..."

Now it was Snow's turn to comfort him. She took his hands in both of hers. "We were children, Will. Your father was trying to protect you. He did what he had to do for the both of you to survive. I harbor no hard feelings against you for it." She sighed when he still looked displeased. "Besides, you've already more than made up for it. You did come for me. A decade too late, but come you did." She smiled, hoping he would hear the joking tone in her voice at that last bit. "You rescued me, William. You kept me safe. You helped me defeat Ravenna." She cupped his chin in her hand, willing him to look up at her. "And for that I am eternally grateful."

At once, William looked up and leaned into her, all in once smooth movement. Snow's breathing hitched and she felt herself blush once more, but for an entirely different reason this time. The hand holding his chin was suddenly heavy as a brick as she brought it back down to her lap. "For years I wondered what you would be like if I ever saw you again. And now that I am seeing you right before my very eyes, I am not disappointed. You are everything I imagined you to be – just as compassionate, caring, and devastatingly beautiful as the girl I once knew."

He pressed his forehead to hers and closed his eyes, breathing her in. "Snow White," he said, his voice raspy, barely above a whisper. Snow was sure he could hear her heart pounding from beneath her nearly translucent pale skin.

William closed the remaining space between them and Snow didn't try to stop him. His lips met hers tenderly, and it was so lovely a feeling, and suddenly she was warm, so very warm, and she pulled away from him warily.

"What is it?" William asked, his gaze soft, yet searching.

"It's the huntsman," she replied, not bothering to stop and think about how this answer might hurt his feelings. "He left the castle tonight. Or that's what I've been told, at least. And I'm… I'm worried about him."

"He's a huntsman, Snow. The forest is his territory, the night his mistress. I'm sure he's fine."

Snow sighed, defeated. "I know. But after all that's taken place, how can he just leave without explanation?"

"He's nothing, Snow. A widower. A drunkard! He isn't worthy of your worry."

Snow White rose from the sofa in anger. "How can you say such things?" she cried. "I'd surely be dead if it weren't for him!"

William stood and attempted to take her in his arms, but she backed away from him. "You're right..." he said, obviously trying to patch his mistake. "I'm sorry. You care about the man, however absurd I think it to be. That is plain to see. I was being inconsiderate, and I apologize."

She masked her disgust and disguised it with exhaustion, ready to retire the subject. "I should get to bed. I'm so sorry if I kept you from your sleep." She gave him a tiny peck on the cheek, and then she turned and left, leaving a confused William standing alone in the sitting room.

In her haste to leave, she'd forgotten that she was a stranger to these halls and didn't know the way back to her room. She spent a good few minutes meandering the halls, looking for anything that stood out to her as a marker, anything that would jog her memory... And that was when she heard a slurping coming from behind a door to her left.

It had to be at least halfway through the night at this point. What was anyone doing awake? She turned to the door and remembered it to be the entrance to the mead hall. And then she knew exactly who it was she heard slurping. She threw the door open and barged inside.

The huntsman didn't seem alarmed in the slightest – he sat alone in the middle of a long wooden table and barely looked up from his drink. "Huntsman!" she called, overjoyed to see him.

He looked up at her with a smirk. "Trouble sleeping, Princess?"

"It's 'Queen' now, actually," she replied, a huge grin taking over her face that she didn't even try to mask. She walked over to the table and took a seat next to him. "I thought you'd left."

The huntsman took a long sip from his mug. "So I've heard. You caused quite the alarm among the servants. Your little outburst is all the gossip."

Snow looked down to hide her blush. "You heard? Then why didn't you come to me?"

"I did. You weren't in your room."

She felt her cheeks redden even more. So he _had_ come to her. And she was busy cavorting with another. "I'm sorry, I... I was with William."

"Right. Just as you were with him throughout the entire celebration ball." He rolled his eyes.

She looked up at him pointedly, ignoring the hurt that was so present in his voice. "So you _were_ there!"

He smirked. "Lurking in the shadows, yes. I'm afraid dancing isn't quite my forte."

"I looked for you."

"I know." The huntsman took the last swig of his ale and pushed the mug aside. "So to what do I owe this pleasure of your company?"

"Oh, I, um... I had something I wanted to ask you..." It was then that the queen noticed his satchel sitting on the table beside them. "Greta told me your things weren't in your room! Why are they with you?"

He let out a small harrumph. "The bed was far too soft and plush. I am much more accustomed to cots and rags. I begged them not to put me in no fancy room. I won't be staying there."

Snow feared the double meaning behind his words. "I can arrange to have a cot and some rags brought to you first thing in the morning," she said, a hopeful smirk tugging at the corners of her lips.

"That's alright. I'll be leaving in the morning, anyway."

Snow's heart sunk in her chest. This was what she'd feared, but what she'd always known would happen anyway. "Back to your village, then?"

"Most likely. Maybe I'll settle down somewhere new. On the outskirts of it. Away from the ignorants and the half-wits."

"You could always stay here, you know."

The huntsman cocked an eyebrow. "And the truth comes out. I knew this was what you'd wanted to see me for. Some kind of bribe, perhaps?" He pushed his chair out from under the table, turning it to face her. He leaned back in it, folding his arms behind is head and stretching out his long legs. "Well, out with it, then. Let's hear it."

She couldn't say her ego wasn't bruised slightly by his apparent making fun of her intentions, but he was right. That had been exactly what she'd been planning on doing – giving him an incentive to stay here with her in the palace. So she did as he said and came out with it. "I'd like to appoint you as captain of the queen's guards."

The huntsman actually scoffed upon hearing this. "I'm no guard, princess, nor am I a captain. I'm a bloody widower... a sloppy drunkard! A sorry excuse for a man who will never live to make his murdered wife proud. I'm better off eating slops with the pigs than serving the right queen herself."

Snow was dejected. She figured he'd be wary to accept her offer, sure... but to scoff at it? He must think awfully low of himself. And she wouldn't have that. "Is that what worries you, huntsman? Keeps you up at night? Keeps you drowning your sorrows in liquor? That you... That you'll never be able to avenge your wife's death?"

The huntsman had given up his position of relaxation in his chair. Now his head was in his hands and he looked downright defeated. "I couldn't save her. I failed her! _I_ should've died, not her. She was... sunshine. Lilies in the valley. A cool pool of water after a sweltering work day. And I'm... nothing. I'm nothing."

"But she must be proud of you, huntsman. You saved me, you helped me... you protected me from the queen. You played a strong hand in bringing peace back to our country! And if it wasn't for you, I would've never been given the chance to defeat Ravenna, to stop her from taking countless more lives from beautiful young women just like your Sarah! So in a way, you have avenged her! Because you... you brought me back to life!" There. She'd said it – the one thing that had been eating away at her from the inside out ever since it had happened, for she had told no one. And now that she'd told the one person who needed to hear it most, she felt a tangible weight being lifted from her shoulders and exhaled sharply in relief.

He looked up at this, his gaze frozen on her for a long time, not bothering to blink back the tears stinging at the corners of his eyes. And, finally when Snow was starting to think he'd gone into shock, he spoke. And his tone wasn't broken anymore. It was accusatory. "How did you know?"

She leaned towards him, whispering in unnecessary caution. "The poison in the apple, huntsman... it wasn't deadly... just paralyzing! On the inside, I was just as awake as you were. I could hear, I could think, I could feel. But I could not move! I could not open my eyes, I could not speak. It was the most utterly terrifying experience, and I would not wish it upon anyone in any lifetime."

His expression was a mix between befuddled and dumbfounded. "So you heard..."

Snow nodded slowly. "Every word, I'm afraid."

The huntsman's gaze turned soft. "I meant every word," he said quietly.

"And I mean when I say that I would be most honored to have you serve as the captain of my guards. There is no one more worthy... There is no one I trust with my life more."

He seemed to actually ponder the idea for a moment before speaking again. "But what of the Duke's son?"

Snow shook her head, not understanding his meaning. "What of him?"

"He is a very skilled bowman. And also a Duke. The position of Captain is rightfully his."

Snow smiled to herself. "No, William would most likely be offended if I offered him any position other than King. He is far too self-important." Upon saying this, Snow realized the meaning the huntsman might take from her words and frowned, knowing she couldn't take them back.

"Is that your intention, then?" he asked, and she could hear the pain in his voice once more. "To take him as your king?"

Snow stood, looking down upon the huntsman. She had not come to him to discuss such matters... Matters she hardly knew the answer to. So she reiterated the one point she had intended to make. "If you would much rather prefer the simple, burden-free life of a commoner, I will respect your wishes and I will not force you to stay here. I will even give you my blessing upon your departure. If, however, you feel that you are made for something more, perhaps to serve your country – to serve me, your queen... my offer still stands." She rested a hand upon his shoulder for just a brief moment and looked right into his eyes, memorizing their exact color and shape, just in case this would be the last time she would see them. "Goodnight, huntsman," she said, and turned to leave.

She only took two steps towards the door before his deep, rumbling voice stopped her. "Eric."

Snow White turned to face him once more.

"My name is Eric." His face expressionless, he stood and held out a grimy hand to her.

She lifted her arm cautiously and put her hand in his, and when she did, the sensation she felt could be described as nothing less but electricity. The spark ignited her palm and traveled up through her arm, into her chest, and shocked her beating heart at its very core. When she looked up at him, she couldn't place the emotion she saw in his eyes, but she guessed that he must've felt it, too.

"It's—It's nice to meet you, Eric," she stammered.

"It's nice to meet you, too, my queen," he said and gave a slightly mocking bow that made Snow giggle in spite of herself. Eric sighed, not yet letting go of her hand. "You remind me so much of her. That gut, that determination... You will make a great queen. And I... I would be honored to serve at your side as the captain of your guards."

Snow gasped. "Oh, would you?" Without thinking, she lunged forward and threw her tiny arms around his neck. He stumbled backward a bit, caught off guard, but quickly caught his balance and wrapped his muscled arms around her, lifting her off her feet and burying his face in her hair.

After a few blissful moments wrapped in each others' arms, he set her back on her feet and took her face in his hands. His expression turned to a serious one as he locked his eyes on hers. "The last time I kissed you, I thought you to be dead," he said softly. "Your lips remained still against my own. If I could, I should request permission to try a second time."

Snow slid her arms down from around his neck to rest on his broad chest and grinned at him. "You need not even ask, Captain. Ravenna failed in her attempts to steal my heart, for she did now know that it was already yours."

And with that, Eric hungrily covered her mouth with his, a low groan escaping him from the back of his throat. And unlike what she felt with William's kiss, this – Snow was sure of it – _this_ was what life must be really about. She wrapped her tiny fists around the fabric of his shirt covering his chest and pulled herself into him, reveling in this new world of pure sensation. Her lips moved against his, one strong hand of his pressed against the small of her back, the other tangled in her hair and cradling the back of her neck.

"Greta... Greta will be waiting on me," Snow managed to get out between kisses, despite her lack of oxygen intake.

"Don't flatter yourself, girl," Eric said jokingly, mimicking what he'd said to her in the Dark Forest when he'd stripped off the bottom of her dress so she wouldn't get herself caught on anything. "She would have fallen asleep hours ago."

"The bonfire is tomorrow, though, Eric. We should be well-rested for it."

"Oh, is attendance mandatory for the captain of the guards?" he asked, his joking tone still present.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, it is."

"Well, damn."

Eric had given up on kissing her for the moment due to the fact that she wouldn't stop talking. He began mindlessly toying with her hair between his fingers and it was all Snow could do to keep her composure. "Where will you sleep?"

"On the foot rug beside your bed, of course."

Snow grinned up at him. "But people will talk."

He chuckled, his breath warm on her face. "Fine. Then I shall go back to my previous room, I suppose." Even after the wonderful turn their conversation had taken, she was still afraid to let him out of her sight. He must've sensed her worry because he quickly added, "I'll still be here in the morning. You have my word."

"And will you stand at my side during the burning tomorrow?"

"There's no place else I'd rather be," he answered before taking her lips between in his once more, and this time it was her who let out a soft sigh.

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**Poem used:** "This Sweet and Merry Month of May" by William Byrd (with a few adjustments and additions)


	2. Two

******Disclaimer:** I do not own_ Snow White and The Huntsman_, nor am I affiliated with it in any way.

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**Two.**

Snow White awoke to the chiming of the bells in the clock tower set in the highest peak of the castle. It signaled the time for everyone to wake and start preparations for the burning ceremony. Greta, along with Snow's two newly appointed ladies-in-waiting, Eleanor (named for the late queen, Snow's mother, she'd told her) and Clementine, hurried in to help Snow get ready.

Since she'd made it known that she didn't intend to wear any item of Ravenna's wardrobe, and she assumed that all of her mother's former things had either been lost or destroyed, the palace's onhand seamstresses had gladly offered to create a whole new wardrobe for the new queen. The gown that Greta had brought to Snow was a simple one - just as Snow had requested - with long sleeves, a fitted bodice, and a flowing skirt. The fabric was royal blue with gold trimmings that sparkled with flecks of green in the sunlight that shone in through the window. "It's perfect," Snow sighed.

She sat in a plush red loveseat as Eleanor and Clementine brushed her hair half-up into a braided bun and let the rest cascade in waves down her back, while Greta dusted a light coat of make-up across her face. And, finally, the crown was placed upon her head and fastened with pins.

"Highness," Clementine finally spoke, her voice high and soft, like the musical flapping of a fairy's wings. "You look stunning."

Snow's dubious look prompted Greta to speak. "She's right, you know. Well, have a look, then!"

When Snow turned to the mirror, she actually gasped at her reflection. And did she see Eleanor tearing up at the sight? Snow couldn't be so vain as to think that. Maybe she'd just imagined it.

There came a knock at the door to Snow's room, and Greta shot Snow a knowing look and called, "Come in!"

And there he was. Her huntsman.

She had made sure that he was to recieve new garments as well. He looked quite the same, actually - she knew he wouldn't be too keen of wearing anything particularly fancy, so she'd instructed that he be made vests, slacks, britches, tunics, and undershirts all alike his normal ones - but he did look nicer and neater. His dirty blonde hair was cleaned and brushed out, and he'd pulled it back into a ponytail like he had at the coronation. His jaw was clean-shaven, a nice touch entirely of his own accord, for she had not dared request it of him. He was just the same, but also quite different. For instead of his usual pursed-lips expression, he was practically beaming.

"My Queen, you look..." he trailed off, allowing the overjoyed look on his face to finish his sentence for him.

"Same to you, Captain," she beamed back.

Greta took one of each of Eleanor's and Clementine's arms in her own. "We'll just be going now. We'll see you at the burning, m'lady?" She hurried the three of them out of the room, but not before pointing another look in Snow's direction, which Snow pretended not to see.

As soon as the doors were shut tight, they we're in each others' arms. "I hardly slept the remainder of the night," Snow mumbled into Eric's chest. "I was so afraid you wouldn't be here when I woke."

"I didn't sleep much, either," Eric admitted, hugging her tighter. "But for a completely different reason."

Snow pulled back to look up at him. "And what reason might that have been?" she asked, a hint of mischief behind her eyes.

Eric cupped her face in his strong hands and pressed his lips to hers gently. "Because of that."

She sighed into his kiss, her stomach turning in anticipation. "I think I can understand the feeling, huntsman. And there will be a time and a place for such activities, I assure you. But now is not the time, nor the place."

"What activities do you speak of, Your Highness? I am afraid I am ignorant," Eric countered teasingly.

In answer, Snow began to inch her way up on her tiptoes and pull his face down to meet hers again. She saw a smile creep across his face and his wide lips part slightly in preparation. But just as their lips met, there came another rapping at the door. Startled, Snow jumped back from Eric, and they both turned immediately towards the direction of the unpleasant noise that parted them. Snow took a shaky breath, praying that whoever was outside didn't notice the flush that painted her cheeks nor the lust that clouded Eric's vision.

"Come in."

The door flew open and in the threshold stood - who else? - William. Snow felt ashamed when the realization hit her that he had hardly crossed her mind at all in the past eight hours. She watched in horror as confusion flickered across his chiseled features as his eyes darted back and forth from herself to the huntsman, and then his expression turned to disbelief as he no doubt came to a terribly wrong conclusion. Or even worse, a terribly right one.

"Snow, er, my Queen," he said unsurely, planting his gaze on Snow. "Are you about ready to be escorted to the front gates?" And then, all of a sudden, his eyes widened wildly and trailed her up and down a few times, and then, just as quickly, his stare softened and focused on her face. "My. You look astounding, Snow." He walked the few paces to where she stood and took her hand, bringing it up his mouth to place a sweet kiss there.

"Thank you, William," she said, looking down to hide her blush from Eric's view. She seemed to be blushing quite an awful lot these days. Maybe it had something to do with having been locked up in the tower through her adolescent years, the years meant for practicing social skills and male-female interactment. Or maybe it was just because she somehow made it out not only alive, but with two perfectly adequate (not to mention handsome) male suitors at each hand.

"Will you be escorting me to the grounds, then? I had just assumed that Eric would."

William seemed confused yet again. "Eric...?"

"Aye," the huntsman spoke, standing himself up taller so that he towered over William intimidatingly. Snow had to surpress a giggle.

"Oh, right," William said uneasily, dropping Snow's hand. He seemed to think for a moment, and then his face lit up in amusement. "Actually, huntsman, we will be putting your... _skills_ to much better use. Seeing as you're so... abnormally large... you would be of great help to some of the other servants who are loading Ravenna's things and carrying them down to the grounds. I'm sure they would much appreciate your help."

Snow was happily surprised when Eric didn't play into William's immature jab, but instead conducted himself in a polite and orderly manner, just as one in the command of the queen's guards should. "Absolutely, William," he said, grinning and placing a hand a little too roughly atop William's shoulder, causing William to buckle a little under the weight and Snow to stifle another giggle. "I will, of course, go to where I am most needed."

Eric turned to Snow, gave a slight bow, and took her tiny hand in his "abnormally large" one. He brought it to his mouth and barely brushed his lips against it, sending an electric shiver up her spine. He looked up at her slowly, a devilish look in his eyes, a silent promise to pick up where they left off later. "M'lady," he purred, and then turned and stomped from the room.

"What was that all about?" William asked as soon as Eric was down the hall and out of earshot. William pointed an elbow at Snow, and she placed her arm around it and allowed him to lead her down the opposite end of the hallway.

"I called a meeting with him early this morning," she lied. He raised an eyebrow at her. "I offered him the position of captain of my guards."

William stopped short in his tracks, but kept his emotions masked beneath an apathetic expression. "And did he accept?"

"After a bit of persuasion, yes." She didn't think about how he might take that... Oh, well. Let him imagine the worst like she knew he would anyway.

"So, I take it he'll be staying, then." The tension of his jaw was almost audible in his words.

"I suppose so." They continued on in silence.

Outside the castle gate, a huge pile of wood had been prepared for the bonfire, and chairs were positioned in a circle around the pile. Snow assumed the largest, armed wooden one at the head of the pile was meant for her, and the ones at each of her sides were probably meant for the Duke and William. She scoffed a little at how the people seemed to disregard Eric. Did they not see how important, how crucial his presence was? Maybe once they knew of his newly appointed status as captain of the guards (which she planned on announcing early on in the ceremony) they would begin to revere him more. For now, though, she would just place him in the seat to her left so that the Duke and William had no choice but to fight for the one to her right.

A line of what seemed to be the palace's most able-bodied men, all carrying various large items, came around the corner through the far left gate. Snow spotted Ravenna's chests, armoires, chairs, tables, wardrobes. And at the end of the line came her huntsman. She shivered when she saw what he was carrying... the former queen's awfully large mirror, made of solid gold in full. For a second she was scared that he might drop it or struggle with its heaviness, but then she almost laughed at herself for even thinking such a thing. He was the strongest man she'd ever known. And although William had probably suggested it out of spite, she couldn't disagree that Eric was perfect for the job he had been appointed to temporarily.

She took a seat and didn't even try to hide the fact that she was shamelessy watching Eric. His muscles rippled and flexed beneath his vest as he set things down, picked other things up, carried things around. A few handmaidens had gathered themselves in a pack behind Snow (Greta, Eleanor, and Clementine included) and they giggled and waved when he looked up in Snow's (and their) direction. He caught her eye once or twice and winked at the lot of them, prompting Snow to grin and roll her eyes and the rest of the girls to giggle and sigh amongst themselves.

When everything had been placed into their correct piles, Eric came to his seat next to her, sweat glistening on his brow. Four of the seven handmaidens offered him their personal handkerchiefs. Eric politely accepted one and tucked it in his pocket for later use before leaning into Snow and whispering in her ear with a smirk, "Did you enjoy the show?"

"My enjoyment ranked mediocre at best. But I'm sure if you ask any of my handmaidens, their reviews of your performance will stand remarkably higher."

To which he whispered back, "Too bad it's not their affections I desire." And she wanted to turn her head and kiss him right on the mouth. But they hadn't yet had the chance to discuss the matter of their public courtship. So, for now, a quick and innocent brush of fingers against palms would have to suffice.

And, just as she had suspected, when the Duke and William finished directing everyone, they looked unhappily at where Eric was seated. The Duke took the seat closest to the queen, discarding his son to the seat on his other side.

The palace residents had started to mill their way into the circle, the highest ranking ones taking seats and the rest crowding around behind them. Snow laughed when she saw Beith and the gang hauling a long log up the hill from the outskirts of the dark forest, harumphing in melodious unison as they did. At Beith's command, they dropped the log down directly in front of where Eric sat and then they all climbed aboard it. The Duke looked as if he was about to protest, but Snow shot him a look that suggested otherwise.

Even a few folk from the outlying villages arrived by horse. This especially pleased Snow since she doubted they would've ever even have thought to do this while Ravenna was queen. But as Snow took another look around, she noticed something that did not please her. The men were all seated - as they were the higher esteemed - but the women and children stood behind them. Snow understood why, but she didn't like it. Why did no one point this out as a problem and amend it? She wished someone would. And then she remembered. That would be up to her. This was her job now.

She saw that people were still arriving and that the Duke probably had the ceremony all planned out... And since he hadn't spoken to her about anything, she figured he hadn't planned on her having any hand in it other than sitting and watching and looking pretty...

She never wanted the Duke to be unhappy with her, but this just wouldn't do. She stood from her chair without warning anyone of her plan. "Excuse me," she called, then cleared her throat and tried again a little louder. "Excuse me!"

Everyone immediately stopped and turned their attention to their queen. She took a deep breath. "Hello, everyone. I am so beyond pleased to see you all gathered here today. I'm sure it will be an..._ interesting_ ceremony, and I'm honored to be able to share this experience with my father's people. However, before Duke Hammond begins, I have a small request to make. I understand that you are all seated according to rank, as is custom, but I'd like to introduce a few new customs of my own, starting with this one. So, could all the men currently seated please rise and move aside from their seats? I would like to request that all the women who are present here this morning please come forward and have a seat in the chairs... and would their children all please sit either with them or on the grass at their feet? Then the men shall gather 'round behind the women and children, please."

Everyone was very attentive as Snow spoke, and as soon as she was finished, they all moved as she'd said to without question. She could feel the Duke's eyes boring into the back of her head, but despite what he thought, he had no power over her decisions. She was _his_ queen now. But when she turned to meet his gaze, his look was fond. He gave her a small grin and an approving nod. And as all the women and children came forward, even he, William, and Eric gave up their seats, and the dwarves all scooted over to make room for a few laughing children.

She sat back down and suddenly couldn't stop smiling at the sight. The women sitting in chairs with children on their lap and sitting on the ground below them - some playing with wooden toys and others picking clovers out of the grass to knot into homemade jewelry - and the men standing protectively behind them. And everyone's expressions seemed... pleasant. Relieved to be out from under Ravenna's venemous reign, no doubt. And glad to have themselves be taken into account for once.

The Duke stepped forward, preparing to address the crowd once they'd settled down. Eric stepped behind Snow's seat, resting a protective hand on her shoulder. Upon seeing this, William stepped towards her seat, too, and rested a forearm on the arm of the wooden chair.

"Welcome, everyone, to the burning ceremony," the Duke began. "We are very pleased with the outcome here today, and we greatly appreciate your obligingness and participation here before we started. My name is Duke Hammond. King Magnus was a dear friend of mine, and I continued and will continue to serve in his and Queen Eleanor's honor long after they are gone. So, it is my greatest honor to introduce to you their beloved daughter, and your new queen, the remarkably beautiful and courageous Snow White."

At this, everyone immediately stood and cheered. Snow was baffled at the sight, much like she was at her coronation the day before. A pat of Eric's hand on her shoulder reminded her to stand. When the applause died down, she sat and the people followed suit. All was quiet for a few moments, and she took this as her opportunity to speak.

"It would also be my privilege to introduce to you the Duke's son, Duke William, here at my right, and the newly-appointed Captain of the Royal Guard, Sir Eric, to my left." William and Eric both stepped forward and bowed lightly to the crowd. She darted her glance over to the two men. She saw the annoyance hidden in William's expression - probably due to her public announcing of Eric's esteemed new status - and a twinkle of humble pride on Eric's face. _Good_, she thought. He deserved to be proud of himself, finally, for all he had done for Snow... and, in turn, the good of the kingdom.

The Duke then instructed a knight to set fire to the pile of wood. It must've been doused with something, because the flames immediately caught in a huge, spectacular flash of light. A few women gasped and some children _ooh-_ed and _ahh-_ed. Then, one by one, Ravenna's possessions were tossed into the fire. The larger storage items were all opened and checked for things that could be of value - diamonds, gold and silver, articles of silk. Any smaller items found stored were cast into the flames first, followed by the larger ones. Each time a new piece was thrown in, the fire gave a satisfying crackle and the flames grew higher.

The flames eventually grew so hot that the circle around the bonfire had to scoot back a time or two. And when they did, Eric lifted Snow's seat - with her still perched upon it - up in his arms in one swift moment, stepping backwards with it and setting it down a few metres back. Snow hadn't been expecting it, and at first she gasped and grabbed onto the arms of the chair, but then let slip a tiny squeal of delight as his hearty laughter boomed from his chest and vibrated the seat back. And then, later, when everyone's attention was glued firmly to the fire, Eric let his fingers curl and uncurl themselves in Snow's long raven locks, idly tying and untying knots in the back of her head. It felt so wonderful that if it had not been for the sparking and booming and crackling and flame-spurting of the scene before her, she might've drifted off into daydreams, and then maybe even sleep.

The next item of concern was one of Ravenna's personal chests. It took some prying and even the hacking of axe to coax it open. When it did, some jewels fells out, as to be expected. But what wasn't to be expected, however, was a folded up piece of parchment. One of the men handed it over to the Duke, who eyed it suspiciously. But then a look of disbelief crossed his features and he hurriedly unfolded it. His eyes skimmed the document quickly before he let out a laugh. "Ladies and gentlemen, it's a miracle! I have, in my hands, King Magnus's very will!"

A collective gasp trickled through the crowd. Snow stood immediately and all but ran to the Duke's side. He offered the parchment to her. "Would you like to do the honors, my queen?"

Snow instinctively took a step backwards as if the parchment would burn her skin should she touch it. "No, no. I couldn't. You should, Duke. You knew him longer."

The Duke nodded. "Very well, then." He cleared his throat and went on. "People of King Magnus's kingdom, I give you his will: In the event of my early or sudden passing, I leave everything to my perfect and only daughter, Snow White, including the kingdom. If this will is to be read before her twentieth birthday, the following men will be, their health willing, appointed to a council that will see to the well-being of the country until Snow White becomes of age..."

Here the Duke proceeded to call the names of a dozen or so citizens. Some were members of the palace, such as knights and counselors, and others were well-to-do men of the surrounding villages. Most of them Snow recognized to be former comrades of her father, and most of them were all still here, as their "ayes" indicated. Sadly, a few had been lost either to sickness or battle, and brief moments of silence were held in their memory.

When the list had been read through, the Duke went on. "However, if Snow White has passed her twentieth birthday at the time this will is read, she is to take the throne as the Queen of the land. As her loving father, I will always be looking out for her goodwill above all others. That being said, I do not expect-"

The Duke stopped. His eyes grew wide as he read on in silence. What could the will say that was enough to quiet him? Snow wanted to snatch the thing from his hands and read it herself, but her arms were suddenly lead at her sides. How old was she now? She did the math mentally in her head. She was eleven when Ravenna and Finn locked her up, and she was in there for almost ten years. So she would be nearly twenty-one then, right? As the silence continued, Snow felt herself begin to sweat, and it wasn't from the heat of the fire. Finally, after what seemed like a long, excruciating amount of time, the Duke read on, his voice level and showing no signs of the emotions he'd previously showcased for all to witness.

"I do not expect my daughter to rule the kingdom on her own. So, as also agreed upon by my loyal friend, the Duke of Hammond, Snow White and his son, William, will be wed at once to take on the burdens and joys of ruling a country by taking the throne together as your king and queen."

It was a minute or so before Snow actually realized what was going on around her. Greta and Eleanor had rushed to her sides, fanning her and wiping her brow with their handkerchiefs. Eric had immediately carried her chair over and placed it beneath her. Her father's will was in her hands as she read those dreadful final sentences with her own two eyes. And then, at the bottom, was her father's own signature, stamped with the family crest in wax. And next to his signature read that of his cosigner. The Duke of Hammond.

She heard William's voice and looked up to see him kneeling at her feet and reaching out for her hands. His expression seemed genuinely worried. Why was he worried?

"You passed out from the heat, m'lady," came his reply. Oh. Had she asked that out loud? Call it what they will, but she and William both knew the real reason for her quick blackout.

William stood and addressed the now distressed crowd, assuring them that their queen was fine - merely overheated, that's all - and to please enjoy the remainder of the ceremony as the queen is escorted inside to cool off.

William tucked the will into his vest and helped Snow stand. She was escorted into the castle by him, Greta, Clementine, and Eleanor. But where was Eric? Her heart fell as the thought occured to her that he had gone off to his room to gather his things and leave, for surely the news the will had brought had upset him. But when they arrived at her room, there he was, already waiting. She searched his expression for any sign of his emotions, but all she found was concern. For her "overheatedness", no doubt.

William and her handmaidens all offered to stay with her, but she promised them that she was just fine and asked them to go back out to the burning. William would be needed, and the girls should go and spread the word that the queen is going to be perfectly okay. Yes, those were her reasons. But what she really wanted was a chance to talk to Eric.

Without saying a word, he walked across the room and pulled away a curtain, revealing a bathtub already filled to the rim with hot water. She remained seated on the loveseat, watching as he laid a rag out on the floor next to it.

"Can you stand?"

_Can I stand? What?_ "I beg your pardon?"

"No need," he said and strode towards her, scooping her up in his arms in one smooth movement and carrying her over to the tub.

"Eric, what are you doing? I'm fine!"

"No, highness, you only think you are. But you are not of sound mind. You are most definitely in shock."

She squirmed in his arms, flailing her legs about. When his hold never faltered, she gave up the fight and instead tried to reason with him. "Do you mean to drop me right into the water and ruin my brand new gown? Or, if you do insist on me bathing, would you at least allow me to undress?"

Eric said nothing, just placed her on her feet. Her knees buckled once and he caught her quickly. Maybe he was right. Maybe she _wasn't_ fine. "Are you sure you don't need my help?"

Snow blushed as she silently considered his offer to help her undress, internally shaming herself for even entertaining the thought. So she shook her head and stepped behind the curtain. First she slipped off her shoes, then her tights. But she couldn't quite reach the string that laced her gown up the back...

"Eric, does your offer of help still stand?"

And then he was behind her, his fingers carefully unlacing the string. Her eyes rolled back into her head a little bit as his rough fingertips grazed the pale skin of her back, and even moreso when they slid across her shoulders, pushing her sleeves off and causing her gown to drop to her feet. She drew in a sharp breath when his hands lingered on her shoulders for a few moments and then his fingers traced the outline of her skin against the thin white undergown.

She spun around quickly to face him, her desire for him taunting her. And when she did, she lost her balance again. He caught her, his hands on her arms. He looked down and watched as his hands skimmed down her arms, stopped for a few moments at her hands, and then brushed back up her shoulders. She remained still once more, allowing him to do as he pleased. But he did nothing more. And as his eyes traveled back up to meet hers, she closed them, awaiting his kiss that was sure to come.

But he only cleared his throat and said, "I'll turn while you continue to undress."

Eric stepped outside the curtain, and Snow slipped out of her undergarments and into the warm water, sighing as it soothed her tired muscles.

"Do you feel better?" came his worried voice from the other side of the thin orange fabric.

"I've been fine this whole time, Eric."

"Didn't seem that way when you fainted earlier on the grounds."

"I... fainted? I don't remember..."

"Yes. After..." He didn't finish.

Snow reached out and eased the curtain open only far enough so she could see his face. It looked just as she'd feared. Completely and utterly broken.

"Eric, I..."

"No, don't... It's okay. Just relax. You need to gather your strengths. I knew you were falling ill when you didn't object to the Duke's proposal."

She shooked her head, confused. "It was not the Duke's proposal... It was my father's wish."

"But still. The whole thing is just silly. But you'll have time to amend the will later."

Snow couldn't believe what she was hearing. Was he actually mocking her fathers dying words? "_Amend the will?_ Eric, my father wrote that will. My _dead_ father! I would be a right wench if I were not to obey."

He stood, throwing back the curtain angrily with one hand and tossing a rag atop her with the other. "Do you mean to say that you are to seriously_ marry_ that baffoon?" he yelled, and she swore the bathwater rippled.

"William is _no baffoon_! He is my _friend_. How _dare_ you speak of him in such a manner!" Snow stood, wrapping herself in the rag and hurrying behind the changing wall. She grabbed for her robe and tied it around her. When she exited, Eric was standing tall, his incredulous stare boring into her.

"I can't believe you are _actually_ considering this! Have you gone_ mad_?" he all but screamed.

Although the doors were shut and the window curtains pulled to, she wished he would quiet his voice so no one - especially William or the Duke - heard upon arriving back from the burning. "I don't know what I am to do, Eric! This is kind of a lot to process!" she hissed through her teeth, hoping he would take her cue to quiet down. He didn't.

"What do you mean _you don't know_? Are you saying that you are actually considering this! I, for one, was under the impression that you had sort of chosen _me_!" His booming voice carried easily through the room. If people weren't to hear his words and come to hate him, she needed to calm him.

Snow inched towards him, cupping his chin in her hands in what she hoped to be a comforting gesture. "You know how I feel about you, Eric. But that has little to do with the matter at present..."

"_Little to do with it?_" He backed away from her touch, a look of hurt overtaking his face where anger once was. "For God's sake, Snow. It has _everything_ to do with it!"

This wasn't about him at all. Couldn't he see that? "This is not a choice between you or William! It's my father's dying wish. To ignore it would be to blatantly disregard his honor!"

"That is not all that it is, Snow. Think about it! If Ravenna had never come, if your father had died of natural causes, if I had never even met you, if I was still nothing but a sorry drunken bastard... then it would be reasonable, if not desirable, for you to marry William. But that's _not_ how it is! And how it is is that Ravenna nearly destroyed the kingdom, and all hope along with it. She murdered your father and locked you up. She tried to consume your heart! And she sent me after you. _And that changed everything!_ And even if you'd still defeated Ravenna without my help at all, and if I'd never met you, even then you probably would've still been destined to end up with him. Hell, he'd make a wonderful king, every bit as good as your father was! But would you have him as your husband? Would you pretend to love him for the remainder of your life? And then what about_ me_? What about the one who's kiss awakened you from death?"

Snow stood absolutely still, pretrified in the midst of his fury, her heart pounding in her chest. He must've sensed her fear, for he took a step towards her and placed a hand on her cheek. And when he spoke again, his voice was finally soft. "Admit it, princess. You and I? We've got something here. And just when I thought I'd never feel this way again, I... It was my kiss that awoke you, right? We'd be fools to throw it all away."

She wanted to yell. To push him away. To slap him for being insensitive about her father. To punch him in the chest until her knuckles bled - not for anything he'd said, but because she knew he could take it and easily feel no pain - and then curl up in a ball and cry until she'd used up all her tears. But all she said was, "You're right."

And as she looked into his glassy blues, she knew she had spoken the truth. He _was_ right. Her marrying William and taking him as her king would have been her rightful destiny had they lived in any other world. Had they never met. Had his kiss not been the one to wake her from her paralyzing slumber.

"Your heartbeat, Majesty, is that of a runaway steed from battle." He removed his hand from her cheek and set it atop where her neck met her chest, feeling the blood pumping beneath his palm. "And to think, is it all because of me?"

Eric looked up then, searching her face for something. Affirmation? Answers? But he was right, yet again. And she hadn't a reply to give. So, instead of being responsible and discussing the matter further to find reason within their irresponsible actions, she wrapped her arms around his waist as tightly as she could and buried her face in his chest. He slid a hand up and down her back, attempting to rub the worry away.

After a few silent moments like that, he scooped her up into his arms and walked over to the loveseat, taking a seat on it and allowing her to nestle in atop his lap. He brushed his lips across her hair and held her as tightly to him as her frail frame would allow. She feared for a moment that he would never let go, keeping her there in his hold forever. But what scared her even more was that she thought she might not mind.

"I'm so sorry I blew up at you like that," came Eric's soft rumble. "I feel so ashamed... You'd think I was still a spiteful drunkard."

"You are forgiven, of course," Snow said into his chest, afraid to meet his eyes due to what she was to say next. "But I'll need some time. To think. To make a firm decision."

"I know." A sigh. "Take all the time you need."


	3. Three

******Disclaimer:** I do not own_ Snow White and The Huntsman_, nor am I affiliated with it in any way.

**Thank you so much to my lovely reviewers:** Copper's Mama, .xx, Asuka Hybrid, spit-fire extradoinare, LenaLove, dragonwitch250, JustBePerfect, bellease, jenny-harkness, Mistress 0f Dragons, Horserider, NUNICHAN, jesuisperdu, October'sLily510, Kristin04. **You are all golden.**

* * *

**Three.**

Snow awoke in the middle of the night, ravenous. She had fallen asleep in Eric's lap, and he'd carried her over to her bed and tucked her in. She'd pretended to still be asleep, but she couldn't help grinning when he brushed her hair out of her face and kissed her forehead before blowing out her candles and leaving the room. She hadn't eaten anything all day, so she slipped on her nightgown beneath her robe, lit a candle, and tiptoed down the stairs and into the kitchen.

After devouring more than her fair share of dinner's leftovers (she assumed that Eric had informed the Duke that she was resting and to not expect her to dine with them) and washing and drying her dishes, she realized that she was far too rested and wouldn't be sleeping anymore that night. So she brewed herself a warm mug of tea and began wandering.

She found herself at the entrance to the throne room. It figures that I'd end up here, she thought. She brought her candle around the room, lighting the candles that lined the walls with it along her path to the throne.

The chair was red, velvety, and plush, much like the sofa in the sitting room she and William had visited the day before. Except this chair was much, much bigger. It could've easily fit two of her in its seat, and its back raised nearly two feet above her head.

She remembered how her father looked sitting in this chair. Mighty, royal, impressive. She imagined how she looked... Probably small, fragile, unfit to be a queen.

She set her mug down on the arm of the chair and closed her eyes. She thought of her parents. Imagined they were still here, seated on either side of her. She remembered the way her father's eyes would squint and crinkle when he laughed - a loud, jolly sound. She remembered the smell of her mother's perfume, sweet and airy. Her mother's hair was long - so long - and Snow remembered how she used to envy her mother for it. She would always wish that her hair would grow to be that long one day, and her mother assured her that it would, and even longer. She remembered how the people truly adored and respected her father. She doubted she would ever come to be even a small slither as good of a ruler as he'd been.

She lifted a finger to wipe a single tear from her cheek. And when she opened her eyes, she nearly screamed.

The Duke was standing before her, his body cast with moving shadows provided by the candles inside the dimly lit room. He was dressed simply in his slippers and night clothes. Snow had never seen him looking so casually.

"My queen, I am so sorry. I did not mean to startle you," he said.

"It's fine, Duke. I just wasn't expecting anyone else to be awake at this hour."

"Oh, yes. I was, um... Well, I was having trouble sleeping, sitting up pondering our little predicament."

"Right," she said. _He would be worrying about that, wouldn't he? It's also his son's happiness and prosperity at stake._

"May I sit?" he asked, gesturing to one of the seats to her right. They were very much like her own, only smaller and with no arms. Meant for her court, which he was on anyway.

"Oh, of course."

"I was pretty surprised to find you here," he said as he settled in next to her. "I sometimes come here when I can't sleep. It's a good place to think. You know, it's like I can feel their presence in here."

"I know what you mean. I was... I was just with them. When you came in."

"And did they spare any advice? Shed any light on your... situation?"

She shook her head. "I'm afraid not."

"Well. I'm sure they would say to follow your heart, or listen to your head, or something along those lines." He chuckled.

"Yes, you're probably right." _Sigh._ "It's just... hard."

"Might I... say a few words regarding the manner? If I may."

"Of course, Duke. There is no one's wisdom I value more." And that was true. Even if he was slightly biased.

"I... I knew your father better than anyone, save for your mother, that is. He was a very wise man... the wisest I've ever known. When he came to me and asked me my thoughts on betrothing you and William if anything were to happen to him... I thought it a good idea at the time. To be honest, I kind of assumed it would happen anyway. Even as kids, the two of you were so very fond of each other.

"Neither one of us could've forseen the pure evil and terror that Ravenna was to bring. How could we have known? It was so very unprovoked! And I need to say that I'm sorry... so_ very_ sorry... for leaving you behind that day. I've never regretted anything more."

"It's okay, it's..."

"No, prin- queen. No, queen, it's not okay. But, anyway, I understand that the circumstances in which Magnus wrote his will were much different than what they are now. And I understand if you choose to disregard that one certain part. But, as his father, I do feel inclined to speak a bit on William's behalf. He does love you, of that I'm sure. He always has. And he would make a superb husband to you - you will never want for anything. And as for the ruling at your side part? He is a very eager learner, as you probably remember. He would serve this country well.

"But you should know... He has very high expectations in regards to the will, obviously." He chuckled. "So, whatever you decide, be gentle with him. Go easy on him, if you would."

"I will," she nodded, realizing that she would forever be indebted to him because of his wisdom and gentleness towards her. "Thank you, Duke. For everything."

"You look so much like Eleanor, you know. And your courage and fairness is that of your father. You will make a wise queen. And any man, whether it be my boy or any other, will be lucky to have you." He paused, judging the look on her face before continuing, " Even the huntsman."

She felt her cheeks grow hot in guilt and looked down. Had she really been so transparent with her affections? "I don't know what you mean, Duke...?" she lied.

"Well," he said, slapping his palms against his knees and standing up. "In whichever case, I feel certain you'll make the right decision." He winked at her then. "Goodnight, Snow White."

* * *

The following day, the queen feigned ill, still overheated from the day before. Or exhausted, or in shock, or whatever it was they'd said she was. The real reason was that she needed to think. She informed Greta that no one was to request a meeting with her except Eric, William, or the Duke.

She spent a few hours meditating on her situation from within the huge tub in the bathing room. Ravenna's mirror was gone, among her other things, leaving the room seeming big and full of light and almost inviting. Greta sat on a bench beside the tub, braiding her own hair and humming softly, a sweet sound which almost had Snow drifting into sleep.

But when Greta abruptly stopped, Snow opened her eyes. "Greta, what is it?"

"I was just wondering... No, that would be inappropriate to ask."

"Greta, you are my friend. Anything you say will be fine, I promse."

Greta smiled at Snow fondly, but then frowned and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Well, I was just wondering... Do you fancy William?"

Snow smiled at her friend. "Of course I fancy William. He is a dear friend."

"And handsome!" Greta chimed in.

"Yes," Snow answered with a laugh. "And handsome. He _is_ that."

Greta looked down at her hair and then up again. "So, you are to marry him, then?"

"I... I don't know," Snow said and sunk down further into the water. "I don't really see any reason for me to not. Do you?"

"He is perfectly amiable, I daresay. But what of the captain?"

Snow sat upright, surprised. "The captain?"

"Yes. The huntsman? It is very obvious that he adores you," Greta stated matter-of-factly.

"Is it?"

"Well, of course! All the women here are pretty much throwing themselves at him left and right, and he hasn't even so much as blinked an eye at them. You are all he sees."

"He is the captain of my guards, Greta. It may be that he never leaves me from his sight because he has sworn to protect me. It is his job."

Greta shrugged. "Maybe. But no guard ever looked at Queen Eleanor that way."

Snow shook her head, not wanting to believe the enormity of what Greta had so rightly observed. "In what way?"

Greta pondered it for a few moments. "Well... kind of like the way King Magnus looked at your mother."

"Really? I guess I haven't noticed," Snow lied.

"Maybe you should look harder next time, because it's the same way the Duke's son looks at you, too." When Snow didn't answer, Greta went on. "You're very lucky to have two such wonderful suitors after your hand."

"Yes. Lucky." But what she really meant was unfortunate, misgiving. She heard Greta say something further, but Snow's ears were underwater now and she couldn't quite make it out.

* * *

No one had come to her today, not even Eric. She'd had Greta find him just to make sure that he was still here. She reported back that he was seeking out men to join the queen's guards, since he was now captain, and all. She was pleased with herself for having unknowlingly given him something to do to take up his time while he left her alone to think. If Eric was anything, he was true to his word. She suddenly wondered if he would remain captain if she decided to marry William. Probably not, she decided. His hidden agenda for enlisting people for the guards was probably a quest to find someone to take his place if the need were to present itself. Aka, if she weren't to choose him.

She'd made little to no progress in making her decision throughout the day, which ailed her not only because it was a supreme waste of time which she did not have, but also because she had taken a day off from her duties for seemingly no reason. She didn't want to seem a nuisance to her people, much less unable.

She figured she wouldn't get any closer to making a choice if she didn't eventually talk to William. See where his mind was, what he thought of all of it. She sent for him, and he appeared within the hour.

"Snow, thank God. I was beginning to think I'd never hear from you again!"

The two settled in next to each other on the loveseat. "I know, I'm so sorry I didn't call for you sooner. I needed some time to myself."

"And are you feeling better?" His expression was truly concerned.

"Much," she lied with what she hoped to be a convincing enough smile.

"I'm glad. Yesterday's news came as quite of a... _shock_... to all of us."

"It did, indeed."

"And that is why you're meeting with me, is it not?"

"Nothing gets past you, does it?" she asked playfully. "I just wanted to get some sort of insight from you about all of it. Because you are involved, too, just as much as I am." She wasn't so sure that was entirely true, but he said it anyway, assuming he probably felt that way. "What are your thoughts?"

William thought for a moment before answering. "Honestly? I prayed and prayed for ten whole years that you were still alive somewhere in the world and that you were still unmarried, so that I could find you and marry you myself." He laughed. She laughed, too, but somewhat uneasily. He must've sensed this because he added, "What are_ your_ thoughts?"

She looked down at her hands, not wanting to meet his anxious gaze. "I'm not entirely sure just yet. I do know that I would be a terrible daughter were I not to follow Father's will, and I'd also be a right fool not to marry someone as good to me as you have been. The problem is, I can't decide whether I_ am_ terrible. Or a fool."

"You are neither, Snow. You are perfect."

She looked up at him and was suddenly tempted to kiss him, but instead of passion and desire like she would feel for the huntsman, with tenderness and appreciation. She didn't, though. "I am not perfect. Not by any means."

"You do not see yourself in the correct light."

"Well then, tell me." She was suddenly eager to know how he viewed her. Maybe it would help her case. "What do I look like in the correct light?"

He gave her a breathtakingly gorgeous smile. "Undeniably beautiful, for one. But beneath that? Intelligent. Courageous. Pure. Innocent. Unfailingly kind and compassionate. Selfless. Wise." He raised an eyebrow. "Taunting."

"How on earth am I taunting?" she asked, amused.

"Well, for example, I desire nothing more in the current moment than to kiss you right now." He leaned in slightly and smirked when her breath caught. His next words were merely a whisper. "May I kiss you, my Snow White?"

She said nothing, just gave one small nod of her head. After all he'd done for her, she was in no position to refuse him. And he kissed her, and he tasted like peppermint and butterscotch. The kiss was slow, gentle. And when they parted, she could see it in his eyes - a request for more. She granted him permission by closing her eyes and parting her lips.

As William kissed her, she was reminded more than once of Eric. She pushed his face out of her mind. She was being selfish, she knew, and not at all like William had described. But she justified her actions by claiming that her motivations were purely for reasons of research, as she had to know the full extent of what her options were.

William was a complete gentleman, his hands remaining on her arms as they kissed, never venturing. That wasn't at all to say for Eric, whose hunger for her naturally overruled his manners. She never minded, not really, because her desire for him was much the same. She never wanted him to be gentle, never asked him to be. But she had to admit that kissing William was sweeter, lovelier. Less angry, somehow.

When they finally parted, he pressed his forehead to hers, resting there while they both caught their breath. "You don't know how long I've wanted to do that," he breathed out.

"And was it everything you hoped it would be?" A hint of playfulness.

"No. It was even more." He pulled away, resting against the arm of the seat and throwing his arm over the back of the chair. "A committee's already being put together to plan our wedding, you know." Not a brag, just a statement.

Still, she was shocked. "Really? Even after I... fainted?"

"They were told it was due to heat exhaustion, that it had nothing to do with your father's will."

"They don't really believe that, do they?" she asked, incredulous.

"They are very eager to trust you and appease you, Snow. They are so relieved to be free of Ravenna's terror and torment... They want to keep you happy, satisfied. For when you are, so they are, in turn. They are high off the promise that a new leader brings."

She suddenly felt more overwhelmed than ever. "I feel like I already have so much to live up to, and now they're adding more expectations for me to fulfill. What happens if I don't meet their wishes?"

He reached out and took her hand. "Nothing you could do would displease them. You are King Magnus's daughter, alive and in the flesh. You've freed them, brought light back to their life, joy back to their world. You are their perfect queen."

_There he goes with that word again. Perfect. What does it even mean?_ "And what if I'm not? Perfect, I mean?"

"That would be impossible." He turned to look at the window. "Its nearly nightfall now. I should go before people start talking."

Snow almost laughed at that due to the fact that Eric was in her room most every night, and if people hadn't caught on by now, she doubted they ever would. "I suppose you're right. Thank you for coming, anyway. You've given me much to think about."

"Of course. Who would I be to turn down the queen?" He winked, reminding Snow of his father. And with another long, slow kiss, he left her to her thoughts.

* * *

When she finally drifted off to sleep that night, she saw her father. He was sitting at his desk, his brow furrowed and his stare intent. He dipped a quill in an ink bowl and begin scribbling on a piece of parchment. She didn't have to look to know that it was his will he was writing.

And then she watched herself skip into the room. She couldn't have been more than nine or ten years old. Her mother had just been taken by illness, and although she didn't quite understand what had happened, she couldn't stand to be away from her father for more than an hour, or she would get very sad.

The king folded up the parchment and placed it in a drawer before opening his arms to his daughter and lifting her up into his lap when she ran to him. He asked how her day was, and she said something about playing with William. Her father then asked what she thought of her friend.

"Well, he usually smells like a mixture of soap and dirt, but for the most part, he's okay."

"And do you think you'll be friends with him for a long time?"

"I dunno." She shrugged. "Maybe."

"You do have fun with him, right?"

Little Snow nodded vigorously at this question. "Oh, so much fun, father!" She frowned a bit, then lifted her eyebrows at her him. "Now that I think about it, I do like him quite a lot. He always plays with me and he always does what I ask of him. Well, most of the time, anyway."

The king laughed. "And what would you think about, say... _marrying _him one day?"

Snow scrunched her nose. "Ew, father! Married people always kiss, and that's icky. Besides, we're only kids! Weddings are for grown-ups."

He laughed again. "Ah, very well. But I think maybe in a few years your views might change." He tucked some hair behind her ear. "The Duke is a good man, and he has promised me to raise William to the best of his ability, despite the lack of a mother. I have no doubt that he will grow to be a fine young man - proficient in the skills of battle and knowledgable in the ways of the law. And, one day, he will make a great husband to some lucky lady. And I only want the very best for you. Do you understand?"

Snow was peering at her father like he had three heads. "No, not really."

He smiled. "You will one day, my Snow." And then he kissed her atop the head and told her he had more business to attend to. She skipped out of the room just the way she had come in. Her father smiled as he watched her exit. Then he called for one of his servants.

"Would you please send word to Duke Hammond that I would like to see him at his earliest convenience?"

"Of course, your majesty."

And then Snow awoke, tears stinging her eyes. Because she knew that this wasn't just a dream... it was an old memory. One she'd forgotten she had, one that had been lost to the outer confines of her mind over time. And her unconsciousness had pieced together a few missing bits of information and fed it to her in dream form during her time of need.

And that was all the confirmation she needed. She now knew what she had to do.

She had to let William propose to her.


	4. Four

**Author's note:** I had more than a few worried reviews about where I went with that last chapter. And just to reiterate, this IS a Snow White/Huntsman story. But what's a good story without a few plot twists? So, yes, she has chosen William (for now), but you'll just have to stick with me through this next chapter or two to find out how Snow & Eric get their ending. And, as always, gold stars to all my reviewers. You guys keep me encouraged and anxious to write.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own_ Snow White and The Huntsman_, nor am I affiliated with it in any way.

* * *

**Four.**

"Are you absolutely sure about this, Snow?"

_No. Not at all. But I'm doing it anyway._ "Yes. Positive."

His smile was enormous, lighting up the whole room, the whole castle, the whole country. "Well, okay, then. When should I do it?"

"This afternoon... On the grand ballroom balcony upstairs. For all to see. Go and spread the word, and I'll tell my handmaidens to do the same. I want everyone to be outside. Waiting. If we are to do this, we are to do this right."

Snow White's real reason for the public display was that she wanted the whole affair to be as quick and absent of intimacy as possible. William, of course, probably assumed the reason was for a full-out showcasing of their love. She decided it was better that he lived in his delusion than for him to be pained by the truth.

"This is extraordinary! I'll go and make the preparations at once." He gave her a quick peck on the cheek and scurried off, a newly found spring in his step. _At least I can live to make him happy out of all this mess_, she thought.

And now it was time for the hard part.

She arranged to meet him back in the mead hall where they had reunited nights ago. She had a man pour her a glass of ale to hopefully calm her nerves. She was literally shaking - she had to sip it very unlady-like - and when she lifted the mug up to her mouth, she nearly spilled the drink all over her gown.

When Eric entered, her heart involuntarily sunk, and she immediately regretted her decision. But one memory of her dream the night before and she downed the remainder of her drink and silently reassured herself.

He smirked at her amusingly. "Seems I've taught you well," he said as he sat down next to her, angling his chair to face her. "Couldn't even go two full days without me, eh?"

All formalities aside and artificial courage coursing through her veigns, she cut right to the chase. "I've done a lot of thinking, Eric. And I've made a decision."

Eric's gaze trailed over her, taking in the empty mug, her crazed expression, the shakiness in her voice. "And you've chosen to marry."

She swallowed a thick lump from within her throat. "I've chosen to let William propose to me, yes."

"And you plan on accepting." Not a question, a statement. Not angry, defeated. And this was somehow much, much worse.

Snow felt her shoulders sink, her head drop. And all at once, she disguarded her air of authority for one of immaturity. "I have no other choice."

He surprised her by lifting her chin with a gentle touch, his eyes sympathetic, searching within the depths of hers. This wasn't at all the reaction she'd been expecting - one of anger, yelling, storming out, maybe some chair throwing. That she had been prepared for. But this? How was she supposed to react to all of this without losing herself entirely?

"I've had some time to think these past couple of days, as well. And I think that you're looking at this the wrong way. You told me that it wasn't a choice between me or William, but a choice between my wishes or your father's wishes. But that's not it either! As I see it, I'm not asking you to set aside your father's wishes for mine. I'm asking you to reevaluate your father's wishes... versus your own."

The proximity was so close, his breath so warm, his words so deep and true... She really couldn't help herself when she reached out for him. He pulled back, resisted, but she kept herself attached to him. He gave in with a groan and pulled her into his lap, pressing his mouth to her neck until her breathing hitched. But his lips stopped moving after a few too-small moments and he just sat there, holding her. And it was then that Snow realized she was crying.

"I know you want to leave. But you... you have to stay. At least until the wedding. I... I can't do this without you."

"Sure you can," he breathed into her neck. "Tell me the real reason you don't want me to go."

"I already don't want to do what I'm going to do. But I defintely don't want to do it without you by my side. I know that's incredibly selfish of me to ask of you, but I just thought..." She trailed off, pulling back to look at him. She was shocked to find that his eyes were glassy with tears, which just seemed to make hers fall even more freely.

He wiped away a few of her stray teardrops, brushing his callused fingertips along her cheekbone. "I can only stay by your side for so long, you know. Once you're a married woman, that's it; I'm gone."

She smiled through her quiet sobbing. "Do you mean you'll stay, then?"

"If my queen wills it of me, I will see you up to the morning of the wedding. After then, I'll wish to be on my way." Pause. "I cannot watch him marry you."

"And I'm not asking you to."

"Good. Because I can't guarantee that I'll remain quiet when the minister calls for any objections. Speak now or forever hold your peace, and such."

"And if you didn't object, I'd feel dishonored."

"Then it's probably best for both parties if I do noy attend."

Snow tucked a few of Eric's bangs behind his ear, to which he smirked at her. Her heart squeezed at the sight. She could hardly take it. "My heart will always belong to you, huntsman."

He chuckled, a humorless sound. "That utterance would mean so much more if you didn't go through with this."

She felt more tears coming. "I must."

"I know."

And then she buried her face in his neck and let him hold her until her sobs quieted down and eventually faded altogether.

"I've found a few suitable replacements for the captain of your guards," Eric said after a long while.

"Good. I shall like to meet them," Snow answered. "I'm sure none of them are as worthy or talented as you, though."

"You put too much faith in me, my queen... Especially now. Who's to say I won't go chasing after William's head before a wedding even takes place?" His words dripped of sarcasm, but she knew a hint of truth lied beneath them.

"Then you should probably try your best to steer clear of him. Particularly this afternoon. Outside in the courtyard below the balcony."

Eric caught the hidden warning behind her words. "Well, then. You should be off now and be getting ready for the big moment." He stood, lifting her off his lap. "And don't worry. I will be nowhere to be seen when the time comes."

And he wasn't lying. When she stood on the balcony and looked down at all the servants, workers, and citizens crowding the courtyard, she saw no sign of him.

She was dressed simply and beautifully, yet again. By a seamstress, with the help of Greta, Eleanor, and Clementine. A dash of powder, a brush of red cheeks, a dab of red lips, a braided updo.

William looked his very best, handsome as always. When he knelt down and asked her for her hand, she faked a smile and offered him a quiet "yes". Her handmaidens all started crying and blubbering from back within the ballroom. The crowd all cheered and tossed their hats, bonnets, and handkerchiefs into the air. The Duke nodded his head approvingly.

All of this she was prepared for. What she wasn't prepared for, though, was the ring William presented to her.

It was her mother's engagement ring. The one she had been given by her father.

William explained that they had found it tucked away with some of Ravenna's things, that she must've assumed it was very valuable or she wouldn't have kept it all those years. It was found after the king's will had been read, therefore, Snow had been tucked away in her room at the time of its discovery. William kept it in case he were to propose, and everyone was instructed not to speak of it.

Snow broke down into tears as William slid the ring onto her finger. It was a large and sparkling oval emerald set within a cage of smaller white diamonds on a solid gold band. And it was a perfect fit.

She spent the days with William. Letting the seamstresses take her measurements, taste-testing different pastries, approving colors and decorations. Feigning a smile. Pretending to be tremendously happy and in love.

But the nights she spent atop her sheets, wrapped in the huntsman's arms, flames from candles casting unfriendly shadows across the walls. But they never went any further than kissing and holding each other while sleeping atop the same bed. Eric never asked, despite Snow's silent wishes that he would. She knew he was helping save her innocence. For William to take, no less.

Eric would always come long after nightfall, and he would leave just before the crack of dawn. Most nights she would wait up for him so that she could fall asleep in hs arms, but some nights he would arrive after she'd already fallen asleep, and the only affirmation Snow had that he'd even been there was that the candles were blown out. Because she always left them lit for him.

On one night close to the wedding, they laid together, both unable to sleep. Eric absentmindedly twisted the ring around and around on Snow's finger. "How many days are left now?"

"Three."

"Three," he repeated.

"Are you packed?"

He chuckled. "I don't have much. Packing won't take me very long."

She turned to him. "I could fix that! I... I have everything at my fingertips. Just tell me what you want! Ask, and it will be yours. Anything." Really, it was the least she could do to thank him for putting up with this life of dishonor and unfaithfulness she'd asked him to be a part of. She could see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice - it was killing him to be with her now that the wedding was growing closer and closer, but he didn't speak his thoughts for fear of upsetting her.

He smiled. "I don't require much, Snow. And I do appreciate the offer, and there is one thing I desire, but I'm afraid it is a bit too far out of my reach." He slid his fingertips up and down her outer thigh, dragging the hem of her nightgown up with them. Her eyelids dropped and she clenched her fists around his nightshirt to keep herself from letting loose any noises of pleasure. "Metaphorically speaking, anyway."

On the final night, he didn't come. She waited, paced the room, brushed her already brushed hair. Her heart stirred when a knock came at the door. But then... Eric never usually knocked.

When Snow opened the door, it was Greta she found on the other side. "Are you alright, Snow? I'm just next door, of course, and I heard you rustling about, so I thought I'd come check on you."

Snow beckoned her friend inside. "I'm sorry to have woken you. I'm fine, really. Just pre-wedding jitters. You know."

"Good. I had hoped that was all it was."

And as Greta smiled at Snow, Snow realized that Greta was more than just a handmaiden or a friend - she was a confidant. And Snow needed to talk now more than ever.

"Greta... could I ask you a... rather strange and somewhat intrusive question?"

"Of course." Greta nodded vigorously. "Anything."

Snow moved to the bed, sitting down and motioning for Greta to sit down next to her. "Just... hypothetically speaking... Say it was _you_ who was to be married in the morning. And although you care about the groom very, very much, you are sorry to admit that you do not love him. At least, not in the way a woman ought to love her husband. And there is another, here in the castle. And this man... You _do_ love this man. An awful lot. And he knows you are getting married, and it pains him so, but he's agreed to see you up until the wedding, which is tomorrow, when he will then leave. And you had assumed this man would come to you tonight, you'd hoped for him to, even! And you know it to be wrong, but you just can't help the way that you feel...

"Regardless of your feelings, though, and regardless of if anything were to happen tonight between the two of you, you are a hundred percent still getting married in the morning to the other man... What would you do? Would you still go to him... the one you love?"

Snow could've cried at the immediate relief she felt after telling her story. She'd kept out a few key details for Greta's sake and had posed it all to be only a hypothetical situation. But Greta would be a fool if she didn't recognize the story to be Snow's own. And Snow knew that Greta was not a fool. Still, she was a little surprised by what her friend said next, and it was as if a huge weight had been lifted off of Snow's shoulders:

"I pray that you will forgive my being so outright and forward... But if the man I loved was still in the castle, and this was my last chance to be with him... I would go and be with him. No matter what the cost."

Snow was so overwhelmed that she trapped Greta in a tight hug before she did anything stupid, like cry. "Thank you so much, Greta."

To which Greta whispered to her, "Your secret is safe with me."

So, as soon as Greta was back inside her own bed, Snow wrapped herself in her robe and tiptoed to Eric's room. She found him there, doing nothing less than sharpening an axe.

"Eric,_ for the love of God!_ It's the middle of the night! Do you_ really_ think this is the best time to be sharpening your battle weapons?"

He didn't look up when she'd come in, and he didn't look up now. "I've been so worried about you and your happiness, your comfort, that I have disregarded my duties. I'm to leave in the morning, and my axe is dull! My boots caked with mud! My vest is ripped! And... I don't know how to sew, dammit!"

Snow hadn't seen him this angry since the day of the burning. And she knew him well enough to know that his mispreparations weren't really what was troubling him. "Put down your axe."

He scowled at her, and for the first time that night, their eyes met. "I don't think you understand, princess. I am leaving, and my axe is-"

"I said, _put down your axe_." She cut him off, speaking with such an air of command that he did as he was told. "I know what troubles you, Eric, for it is the same thing that troubles me. But I intended to come and have your head for not coming to me on the last night we have left together!"

"I know you think me to have no conscience, but you'll be amazed to know that I do! And I came to your door, I did! But I felt sick with myself, intending to have you for myself on the night before your wedding to another. So I came back to my room and started packing, and my axe was dull, and-"

"You meant to have me?"

He stopped amidst his incessant babbling, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand and shielding his shame from her view. "It's heinous of me, I know. I don't know what's become of me. You've turned me into a monster! A foul, _loathsome_ creature!"

And in a fit of raw courage, she stepped towards him, saying the words she had so desparately wanted to say for weeks now. "I want you... to have me."

He sighed, still not meeting her gaze. "You are not mine to have."

She stepped even closer, daring him not to give in to her. "I will decide who and who I do not belong to." When he said nothing, she went on. "William is a fool if he doesn't see where my heart truly lies. And tomorrow night, he will have me, whether you do tonight or not." She took his huge hands between her tiny ones and looked up at him, begging, pleading. "I want you to be the first."

He unnattached a hand from her grasp and lifted it to her cheek. "Does this mean you love me?" A hint of a smile.

Her heart sprinted forward, up and out of her chest. "Do_ you_ love_ me_?"

"Aye," he grumbled, a low purr thickened with lust.

"Then show me," she whispered.

His lips came crashing into hers, moving with an urgency like never before. His hands brushed off her robe and it fell to the floor in a pool at her feet. His touch was warm and inviting, and it left her skin blazing in trails as it moved about her, pushing back hair and shrugging off clothing.

Snow clung to him for dear life, her arms tied in a death grip around his neck. She jumped up and her legs wrapped themselves around his waist. He moaned in approval and balanced her in one arm, the other throwing off his vest as her hands wandered beneath it.

He stumbled backwards towards the simple bed. As he sat down on it, their lips parted for the briefest of moments in which he managed to get out, "I'm so sorry this isn't taking place in more suitable of chambers."

To which she let out a small scoff and said, "I should prefer this to any royal bedchambers inside William's arms anyday."

Her words worked like magic, and Eric tossed her to the bed angrily and threw himself on top of her, devouring her like a man starved for twenty years.

He left her raw, open, hungry for more. She couldn't imagine that life got any better than this, nor could she imagine any similar occurences of such passion and _life_ ever taking place with William. She begged Eric to let her stay the night, scared she would forget the memory of the two of them over time. He promised to wake her before dawn so she could go back to her own room, but it wasn't necessary. They never slept, just kissed and touched and lost themselves in their love and want and need for each other.

And when dawn came, they whispered "_I love you_" against the cool breeze and the morning dew and the sounds of larks greeting the morning through the open window. They dressed each other in silence, planting kisses on bare skin along the way. It was a solemn thing, knowing it was their first and last real night together.

"Go and get ready. You've got an important day ahead of you."

"Will I see you again, huntsman?"

"Of course, highness. How would I be able to live with myself if I were to miss perhaps my one and only chance to see you in a wedding gown?"

She smiled, but she heard the pain in his voice. Because they both knew that the first time he should be seeing her in a wedding gown should be while he stood across from her at the altar. Perhaps in another life, a different world.

And with a long, slow kiss and a brushing of cheeks beneath fingertips, she snuck back to her room, pretending to be asleep when Clementine came to wake her.


	5. Five

**Disclaimer:** I do not own_ Snow White and The Huntsman_, nor am I affiliated with it in any way.

A special shout-out to **October'sLily510 **because I really enjoyed their latest review. It gave some good insight on my story that I myself didn't even see at first, but I attempted to incorporate it into this chapter a tiny bit. :]

* * *

**Five.**

The throne room was decorated in shades of burgundy, navy, and gold. A wooden stage had been built just before the throne, an altar to be wed beneath. A hundred or so seats were set out in rows facing the altar (with a line of child-sized ones near the front that Snow had insisted upon having for the dwarves.) Billowy curtains were hung and bejeweled trinkets were placed delicately around the room. It was all so breathtaking that Snow could barely speak when she first saw it. She couldn't have been more grateful towards the decorators, which she was quick to let them know. She blocked the fact that it was _her_ wedding the room was so beautifully dressed for out of her mind and let herself enjoy the sight. She couldn't stay in the throne room long, though, because her handmaidens were more than eager to get their hands on her.

They placed her in a seat in a room that they called the "Preparation Room". It was lined with a table on each wall, each table holding different beauty products, save for the front wall, which held a mirror the length of it. Snow remembered this room – it was the room she and her parents had used to ready themselves for important ceremonies and meetings and hearings and even balls. When Snow asked her handmaidens why this was their first time using it for her, Greta told her that they hadn't wanted to make use of it prematurely. They were saving it for a special occasion. A special occasion such as a wedding.

Snow sat still in her seat – eyes closed, not moving – letting the girls make her over without trouble. She let her mind take her elsewhere... Perhaps to a small cottage on the outskirts of Eric's old village where the two of them lived with their three children – two older boys and a baby girl. Snow wasn't the queen or the princess or anything important. She was just a commoner, like her husband, who was a very skilled huntsman. Or maybe perhaps to a world where both her parents were still alive and ruling their country in fairness and happiness and justice and love. Snow and William were still the very best of friends – and had maybe even grown to be lovers (she would have surely settled with William had she never known the furious passion a filthy, grumpy huntsman could make her feel) – and they hadn't a care in the world except the day when they would undoubtedly have to take the throne.

When her hair and face were both done being made up, Snow stood and stepped into a gown and the girls lifted it up onto her, fastening buttons down the back. She slipped on a pair of satiny white slippers and matching gloves. Eleanor placed a set of Snow's mother's pearls – which had also been found amidst Ravenna's things – around her neck. And, finally, the girls spun Snow around and gave her the okay to take in her reflection.

Snow opened her eyes... and gasped at the young woman who stood before her. She was dressed in a white gown with a lacy, corseted torso and a full skirt made of white tulle. The chest was heart-shaped and her shoulders were bare. Her hair, black as night, fell in soft curls down her back and her tiara was fastened in her hair by a thin braid across the crown of her head. Her skin was white as snow, her lips red as blood, her eyes turquoise as the ocean.

"Your majesty, you are the most exquisite creature I have ever laid eyes upon," Eleanor said, teary eyed.

"I cannot thank you three ladies enough," Snow whispered, afraid that if she spoke too loudly the spell of beauty that had fallen upon her would be broken. "You have made me into a woman."

"In good time, too!" Clementine smiled widely and clapped her hands. "You have but an hour until you will be the most beautiful bride this kingdom has ever seen! Which means we really ought to go and be getting ready now..."

Snow's stomach flipped inside her, and not in a good way. Only one hour left until she was a wife. Her palms clammed up and she was suddenly very warm. She very well couldn't get sick all over her new gown! She needed something to calm her nerves...

She hugged each of her friends, thanking them again, and dismissed them to their dressing rooms. The girls each curtsied and went to leave, but Snow caught Greta by the arm, drawing her close and whispering in her ear, "Could you sneak me some wine in from the kitchen? I know it is meant for the celebration after the wedding, but I could really use something to calm my nerves."

Greta giggled and nodded before rushing out of the room behind Eleanor and Clementine.

Snow sat back down, wanting nothing more than to rest her head in her hands, but not wanting to mess up the girls' masterpiece. When she heard a knock on the door, she rushed to open it. "My, that was extraordinarly fast, Greta!"

But it was not Greta who'd knocked.

"My_ God_."

Snow couldn't stop the smile that tugged at her lips. "Eric."

Eric slithered an arm around her waist and pulled her to him, trapping her in a kiss before throwing the door shut behind him. He held her at arm's length, taking her in. "You look... _perfect_. Absolutely_ perfect_."

Somehow that word didn't bother her as much coming from out of his mouth rather than William's. "Thank you." And then, all at once, the tears came falling.

"Oh, no. No, no, no, no." He took her face in his hands, wiping the tears away one by one. "Don't go messing up what I'm sure your handmaidens have regarded as the next great work of art."

"How can I not cry when I know this is the last time I'll ever see you?"

"See, that's where you're wrong. This may be the last time you'll see me, and the last time I'll see you... But it won't be the last time we see each other."

His words were a puzzle, but Snow knew exactly what he meant by them. She would go back to her throne and he would go back to his village. And he would be a huntsman and deliver meats and furs and hides to the castle cooks and seamstresses in return for a measly pay (that Snow would insist be raised.) She could see it now – finding an excuse to go downstairs, outside, into the sewing room, into the kitchen... anywhere where she could sneak a glimpse of her former lover. And maybe, as the years went on, she would build up the courage to "accidentally" bump into him. Ask him about his life, how his trade was going, if he's met another and settled down yet. And then, after a while of harmless chatting, they'd lose themselves in an innocent kiss and begin their downward spiral into a passionate affair – maybe for a year, maybe more. Sneaking around behind William's back. Snow possibly bearing Eric's child and posing it to be William's, which would make sense except for the fact that the little girl has blonde hair and blue eyes. And then breaking the affair off, a tearful goodbye, before anyone realizes that the child is Eric's. And he would move far away, perhaps to the neighboring country. And that would be the last time she would ever see him. But not now.

As she looked into his eyes, she didn't see regret, suffering, or an ending. She saw _hope_. And she knew he'd foreseen the same future that had just passed behind her eyes.

"_I love you_, Eric." She sniffled through one final sob. "It will always be you. No matter how many years pass between us seeing each other... I will always be waiting for you."

"That won't be necessary, love," he said, drying the remainder of the tears from her cheeks, careful not to smear the blush. "I will always be close by. Watching from a distance."

She kissed him and wrapped her arms around his neck as tightly as she could. He took her waist and lifted her off her feet. "I'm so sorry for not choosing you," she whispered into his hair.

His response was muffled by the way his face was pressed into her neck, but she just made out the words: "But you _did_."

She blushed fiercely as she recalled what had taken place between them the night before, and was immediately pained by the realization that any similar occurrences wouldn't happen for at least several years.

Eric set Snow down and looked her square in the eye. "I will love you... until the day I die. _My Snow White_." He brushed his lips across hers gently.

And then he was gone.

And when Greta returned with a tall glass of wine, Snow downed it gratefully.

And when her cue came, she righted herself and walked into the hallway... where she was greeted by her groom.

"William! I... Shouldn't you be at the altar? Waiting for me?"

William didn't comment on her dress. He didn't tell her she looked beautiful. He looked nowhere but into her eyes. And as she looked back, she noticed how fiery they were, how tightly set his jaw was, how pulled together his brows were. And she felt... _scared_. Which, frankly, wasn't an emotion she normally felt in William's presence.

"William... What is it?"

"Do you love him?"

"What?"

"Do you... _love him_."

Snow couldn't believe that he was seriously asking about Eric now, not ten minutes before she and William were to be married... "What are you talking about? I don't..."

"_Don't play dumb with me Snow!_" he shouted, and it echoed through the narrow hall, which was, thankfully, empty save for the two of them. "I saw you with him!"

She took an involuntary step back, a natural instinct due to the harshness of his tone. But she was still ignorant of what exactly he was speaking of... "What did you see?"

"I saw the two of you together! I was coming to see you, to make sure you weren't nervous or in need of more time to get ready... And I saw him knock on the door to the Preparation Room. And you answered it, and he..." He trailed off, his tone of voice diminishing from one of anger to one of pain. "You've never kissed _me_ like that, that's for sure."

Snow lifted a hand, intending to rest it on his cheek, but decided against it and brought her arm back down where it hung limp at her side. "I'm so, _so_ sorry, William. I never meant to hurt you... I didn't do any of this to hurt you. You _must_ know that."

"You never answered me before. Do you love him?" This time his question wasn't fueled with rage, but with hurt and sadness.

Snow looked down at her feet, or, rather, where she thought her feet would be had her dress not been so poofy and she could have seen them. "Yes," she said softly.

"Then why are you marrying me?"

"It is what my father wanted."

"And you would give up a life of happiness and love with the huntsman... for me?"

She shook her head slightly, looking up at him. "Not for you. For my father."

"Right. Because maintaining your duties as queen comes first and foremost to love. And it is the opposite for me, I'm afraid. But that's what makes you a much better leader than I will ever prove to be."

Snow noticed how he'd said _'will'_ and not _'would'_... "So you will still marry me? Even though you know it is false on my part?"

Both his voice and expression lacked any emotion as he said, "It is what your father wanted." Snow couldn't decide if his apathy and numbness was any better than his anger and pain and sadness. But she let him lead her to the throne room, nonetheless.

William left her at the back entrance with Greta, Clementine, and Eleanor, and he entered through the side, taking his place at the altar. The girls had all changed into silky, navy blue, floor-length gowns, and they each held a bouquet of red roses tied together with a gold ribbon.

"You all look beautiful," Snow breathed out, for they really, really did.

"Thank you, Queen, but not a single soul in that room will be looking at us when you walk in." Greta winked at her and handed her a bouquet of her own.

Snow turned when she heard the deathly sound of the organs. It was time. She took a long, deep breath and pushed through the double doors, the three girls trailing behind her.

She tried her very best not to make eye contact with any of her people (who were busy shooting out 'ooh's and 'ahh's) as she slowly made her way down the aisle. She didn't want any of them to see how she was truly feeling beneath the veil – exhausted, weak... and, ultimately... torn. She did manage to make eye contact with someone, though, and it was the minister, who was smiling profusely. She wanted to command him to stop.

The music ended when she made it to the altar, locking arms with William as he helped her up the stairs. She handed her bouquet to Greta, who stood to her immediate left, and tried her hardest not to meet the Duke's gaze as she turned back. He was standing to William's right, and if he were to judge her expression, he would immediately be able to guess the cause of her grief.

The minister motioned for the congregation to take their seats. Snow placed her hands in William's and looked upon him for the first time since entering the room. His expression was as it had been before – empty. Stoic. She swallowed hard.

And the minister began. "We are gathered here today to witness the uniting of our beloved queen to her groom, Duke William. Love is a fragile thing, and not all of us get to fall into it so freely and unabashedly as these two have. We were robbed of our chance to watch their feelings flourish and grow from that of childhood friendship to mature romance, as they were separated from each other for many, many years. As we were _all_ separated from the then-princess for many, many years.

"I have been instructed not to speak of the Dark Days during the ceremony, as weddings are meant to be light and joyous, so I will only say this..." The minister then redirected his attention from the crowd to Snow White and William. "I believe I can speak on behalf of everyone here when I say that we are most glad to see that the two of you have indeed found your way back to each other, and we cannot wait to witness you continue to grow and mature back together in love and law.

"Now, William. Please repeat after me–"

"Minister," William cut him off. "I know I didn't say this before, but I've prepared my own vows. So, if I may?"

Snow became thoroughly confused. Why would he want to personalize the ceremony after her awful revelation? William turned to her, and his expression wasn't as it had been before. Now it was..._ fond._ He was looking at her fondly. _Why is he looking at me fondly? __Haven't I just broken his heart?_

Sensing her confusion, William gave her hands a squeeze and silently mouthed the words, "Trust me."

And then William cleared his throat and started what everyone assumed would be his vows. "The minister's talk of our childhood got me to thinking, Snow... I still recall my first memory of you. We couldn't have been any more than seven or eight years old. You had climbed the Elder Tree... remember? It was the largest and oldest tree on the grounds... until it was burned down by Ravenna's Dark Army during the siege on the palace. It was forbidden to climb it, as it was old and its branches were weak and it wasn't safe. But you were never one to turn down a challenge. So, one day, when your governess turned her back, I dared you to climb it. And by the time she turned around, you were too far up for her to reach. She commanded you come down at once, but you just pointed a finger at her and laughed and climbed even higher. Luckily, you were just a wee little thing and the branches didn't crumble under your weight."

Under normal circumstances, Snow would've smiled at the memory. But these weren't normal circumstances, and she had no idea whatsoever where he was going with this.

"Soon people started to stop and gather around, some attempting to help talk you down, others just enjoying the show in amusement. Eventually, someone went to fetch the king in hopes that he might be able to coax you down. I overheard and yelled at you to come down before your father caught you, but you just stuck your tongue out at me and laughed. I remember thinking, 'That is one brave little girl.'

"Then you asked me to come and join you. 'It's not as high as it looks,' you said. 'It's not so scary as you'd think.' You said you could even see the houses of the outer villages!" He chuckled. "But I knew that I didn't stand a chance. There were plenty of people around to reach out and grab me before I'd even made it up the first branch. So I told you no. And you frowned at me.

"As kids, we're so open with our emotions. We feel them so truly and wear them so unashamedly. You were so hurt by my refusal that you came down instantly, before the king had even made it outside. But you didn't talk to me for the rest of that week.

"Later on, I looked back on that moment and wished I would've climbed, or at least attempted to. If not to see how high I could make it before I was caught, then only to please you... so you wouldn't have gotten upset with me. And I loved you so fiercely, even then. So I vowed that I'd never be the cause of such disappointment to you ever again.

"I disappointed you numerously through the years, of course, as we were children, and we were quick to act and slow to think. I failed you miserably when I couldn't save you during the siege. And although that had been too far out of my hands, I attempted to make up for it by joining forces with Ravenna's men and coming for you the moment I heard word that you were alive, although I know that debt will never truly be repaid.

"And now, as we are about to be wed, I see that same disappointment in your eyes as I saw that day you climbed the Elder Tree. And I know your disappointment is not directed at me, but it is still at my expense."

He leaned in closer and looked Snow dead in the eye, whispering. "I will not stand here and marry you when it is so evident that you are deeply in love with someone else. I know that you love your father far too much to disobey him, but, fortunately, I love you enough to do it for you."

He released her hands, took a few steps back, turned towards the crowd, and said loud and clear, "Queen Snow White, I will _not_ marry you. Are you to force me?"

The crowd let out a collective gasp. Snow's eyes were filled with tears, so moved by his speech, she was. How could she ever thank him, repay him, for the service he was about to do her? And all this time, she'd thought him to be vain. But now she saw that he was completely and utterly selfless, at least when it came to her.

"No, Duke William." She let out a shaky breath. "I am not my stepmother, and I am not to force you into doing anything you do not desire to do."

The room was silent then as William turned back to her, whispering again. "Go, Snow. Go to him. These people can wait, and _will_ wait, for their explanation. But the huntsman is leaving right as we speak. And if you run, maybe you can still catch him."

The tears were flowing willingly now. Snow placed a shaky hand on his cheek, stroking it with her thumb. "_Thank you, William,_" she whispered and gave him a delicate kiss on the opposite cheek to show her gratitude. And then she lifted her skirts and took off running down the aisle.


	6. Six

**Disclaimer: **I do not own_ Snow White and The Huntsman_, nor am I affiliated with it in any way.

* * *

**Six.**

Snow crashed into Eric's room, not even bothering to knock. It wouldn't have mattered if she had, though, because the room was empty. All her fears had been confirmed, William's surrendering proved worthless. And her entire world came crashing down into her chest and she couldn't breathe. She fell to the floor.

And then she heard something rustling from the wind coming in from the open window. As fate would have it, the piece of parchment lifted off the bed and soared to her feet.

She read the scrawl through her glassy, tear-filled eyes:

_"My dearest Snow,_

_ It appears that William saw us together earlier, for when I left your room, he cornered me. He questioned me, and when he asked if I loved you, I could not deny it. He was very angry and he ordered me to leave at once, unaware that I was already leaving. (I was greatly tempted to punch him for threatening me, which would've been easy, but I didn't want him to show up to your wedding bloodied and bruised. You are welcome.) But that's not why I'm writing this letter, because none of that even matters. I'm writing to inform you that I won't be returning. It's better this way. I do hope you understand. William very obviously cares a great deal about you. He will undoubtedly make a great king to you. Even if you had chosen to have me, you know I am not fit to be a king. How could anyone picture me to be royalty? I know you think much too highly of me and that you will likely swear up and down that I am ruler material, but you are too kind. My place is in one of the outer villages, living amongst the commoners. I am a huntsman, and I will continue to find work in my old trade. I will not take the task of delivering the goods to the castle, for I am afraid it would pain both of us to see each other, and that would be far too unbearable. Let our love affair be a bittersweet memory... one that I will cherish forever. I hope you do not harbor any resentment towards me for anything I've written in this letter. You will do this kingdom well, my queen. Congratulations on your marriage. I love you, I love you, I love you. Forever._

_ Your Eric"_

* * *

_"It's coming up on ten years now since you defeated Ravenna and took the throne, you know."_

_Snow was seated in her throne, where she had taken a liking to drinking her morning tea. It was quiet in the throne room. Peaceful. She sat alone with her parents most days, but she had begun to feel terribly lonely as of late, so she'd invited William to sit with her. She chuckled and rolled her eyes at what he'd said. "Like anyone around here could let me forget."_

_ "We should throw a ball," he suggested casually._

_ She looked at William knowingly. "I am the queen. If you think I am unaware that you are already planning one behind my back, then you aren't as smart as I'd previously imagined."_

_ He smirked and stood, wiping down the front of his trousers. "Well, I cannot deny you your observance. Or was it a bit of unfit eavesdropping that gave us away?"_

_ "My methods are confidential, Duke. What kind of queen would I be if I gave away all of my secrets?" She smirked._

_ William laughed and leaned down, kissing her on the head. "I've got to be off now. I'll see you tonight, my queen." He began walking away, but stopped after a moment, not turning to her. "Aren't you curious as to whether or not we invited him?"_

_ "You know me all too well, my William. So you must already know that_ I_ already know that you did. Just as you have to every other ball we've had over this last decade."_

_ "Yes, well... maybe this time he'll surprise you," William said as he walked off._

_ A week later, the entire castle was dressed in their best, dancing and prancing and jesting and drinking and milling about, celebrating ten wonderful, plentiful, joyous years under Snow's reign. Snow wasn't much for dancing, but she didn't refuse anyone who asked. And there were plenty who did._

_ As the night drew darker, she retired to her chair at the front of the room, watching her people. Despite the hour, they were still as merry as ever. And who was she to put an end to their fun? She would let them continue all through the night, or at least until a wave of exhaustion swept over them._

_ Little Myra, who had previously been dancing and twirling around with Coll, came skipping over to Snow, her red curls bouncing up and down with each step. Snow lifted the six-year-old into her arms. "Don't you look beautiful tonight, my dear?"_

_ "Thank you! Do you like my dress? It twirls when I dance!"_

_ The little girl still had much energy, despite her age and the time of night, and Snow didn't have to fake the smile that came across her own tired features. "Of course, Myra! Your dress is the loveliest one here."_

_ "Not prettier than yours!" Myra fluffed Snow's skirt beneath her. "It's so pretty! Like a plum! And I do love plums!"_

_ Snow laughed. "I know you do, darling! Remember the plum pudding I had specially made for you on your birthday last year?"_

_ Myra nodded vigorously. "That was the best pudding I've ever had! I hope I can have it again this year!"_

_ "You'll just have to wait and see," Snow offered teasingly._

_ William came walking up then – with four-year-old Marta on his heels, gripping his hand tightly, and holding a sleeping two-year-old Henry in his arms._

_ "There you are, Myra," he sighed, exasperated. "I've been looking for you everywhere! Come now; it's time to be off to bed."_

_ Myra pouted. "But Papa! You said I could stay up! You said I was a big girl!"_

_ "You have been a _very_ big girl! But it is very late. Look, Henry's already asleep, and your sister is to fall down any minute. So, please, come be a big girl for me and come to bed."_

_ Myra wrapped her tiny arms around Snow's neck. "Do I _have_ to go?"_

_ "You should do as your father says, My. Little girls who obey their fathers grow to live a long and happy life." Snow winced at the double meaning in her words. How could she forget that awful wedding ten years ago? Her father would never let her forget._

_ "Well, okay." Myra planted a big, wet kiss on Snow's cheek and hopped down, taking Marta's other hand. "_Goodbye, wonderful party!_" she shouted, to which Snow and William laughed._

_ Snow rose from her seat to give William a quick kiss on the cheek. "Thank you for the delightful evening. It was truly enjoyable."_

_ William smiled tiredly. "Of course."_

_ Snow watched the four of them leave and then turned to retire back to her chair... when she stopped short. There, through the crowd, she saw him. His hair was shorter, his beard trimmed. He wore his usual casual attire, which was a contributing factor in helping her place him, for he stood out from the fancily-dressed crowd._

_ Her breath caught in her throat and her heart leapt from her chest and her stomach dropped to the floor. She had the immediate instinct to run, but she took a shaky breath and made her way through the crowd as calmly as she could._

_ His stance was tall and sure, but his eyes gave him away, as they were wary and afraid. He cleared his throat. "Queen," he said and bowed to her._

_ "Eric. How lovely to see that you've finally accepted one of my invitations." Her words were formal, void of all emotion._

_ "Yes, well, it _has_ been ten years. And since William put his personal seal on this particular invite, I figured the offer was upstanding."_

_ She was puzzled by his statement, but she lacked the energy to ask what he'd meant by it. "Well, how are you?" she asked politely._

_ "I'm... I'm wonderful." He forced a smile._

_ "Well, that's good to hear." She forced one back._

_ "And you?"_

_ "I am wonderful, as well, thank you."_

_ "So, um, would you like to sit?" He gestured to a few empty seats against the wall behind them. Snow nodded and allowed him to lead her to them._

_ "I saw you with the children."_

_ "Oh, yes, they are quite the little partiers. They do bring _so_ much joy into my life." Her smile was genuine this time._

_ "And how old are they?"_

_ "Myra's the oldest. She will be seven this year! Marta is four, and little Henry just made two. There is another, as well. A baby girl named Rosie. Greta is nursing her tonight."_

_ Eric was wide-eyed at first, but quickly softened his expression. "Well. You must be very proud."_

_ Snow nodded. "I am. They are very fine children."_

_ "Please don't take any offense in my saying this, but..." he cleared his throat again. He seemed nervous. "You look very well for having had four children in ten years."_

_ Snow laughed a little too loudly at that. "What, do you think they belong to _me_? Do you think Greta is busy nursing my own child?"_

_ "I, um, well..." he stammered, "I saw you with them, and they left with William, and I just assumed..."_

_ "Eric, they are all red-haired and brown-eyed. Surely they cannot be mine."_

_ "But they are William's then?"_

_ "Yes, of course."_

_ "And the mother is...?"_

_ "_Greta_, of course!"_

_ Eric looked ultimately perplexed. "Pardon my asking, but... are you unable to bear child?"_

_ Snow raised an eyebrow at her former lover. "I would not know. I have never tried."_

_ Eric shook his head. "But then why would William have them with Greta?"_

_ "Well, he and Greta are married!"_

_ "They're... Well what about... So you and William...?"_

_ Snow couldn't believe what she was hearing... Had he been living in the wilderness for the past ten years? "Eric, don't you think that you would know if you had a king or not?"_

_ "I... Well, I... I've kind of been living in the wild for the majority of the past ten years."_

Oh. Well, that explains it.

_ "When I went back to my old village, I just couldn't find a place for myself there," he went on. "Turns out it wasn't where I really wanted to be. And I never went into the village much except to gather supplies, so I always received your invitations too late. I don't think I would've come anyway... Having my head on the king's platter didn't really seem like where I wanted to be either. But this letter had his seal on it... So I went and had a trim and had my clothes washed and pressed by some really nice elderly women, and, well... here I am."_

_ "William is not the king, Eric."_

_ "I know that now," he chuckled humorlessly, but stopped when he seemed to realize something. "Why isn't he?"_

_ Snow could feel the heat behind her eyes. But she would not allow herself to cry in front of this man. Never again would he have that luxury. "On the day of our wedding all those years ago, he... saw that I was in love with another man. And William would not have me. So, he set me free."_

_ Eric strangely looked as if he were going to cry at any moment, too. "And this other man that you loved... Why did you not go to him?"_

_ "I did. But he was gone, and all that remained of him was a letter. One that cannot be read anymore, for it is wrinkled and worn and stained from my holding it to my chest and crying myself to sleep every night for a very, very long time... longer than I feel inclined to admit. But it need not be read, anyway. I've had its contents memorized for ten years."_

_ A single tear fell down her cheek, and she quickly reached up to wipe it away before Eric tried to. He leaned towards her and meant to take her hands in his, but she refused him, so he ended up resting them not-too-gentleman-like on her knees. But it was strangely comforting and she didn't shrug them off._

_ "Why didn't you send for him? Surely had he known you had not married, he would have returned."_

_ "The letter served as the only thing I've believed in these past years... Not love, not family, not the law. But home. That I was back home where I belonged, and that he was back home where he wanted to be."_

_ "But it _wasn't_ where I wanted to be," he said, dangerously switching pronouns and making the situation all too real and personal. "Had I known..."_

_ "I didn't want you to return on account of my summoning you, Eric. I wanted it to be of your own accord."_

_ "Well, that could have taken ten years. You know how stubborn that man can be."_

_ Snow said nothing. She just continued to let her tears silently fall, one by one. And this time when he reached for her hands, she allowed him to._

_ "I can imagine how little you must think of me, how deep your disdain for me must be. But believe me when I say that you can't hate me any more than_ I_ hate _myself_. I lied when I said I was doing wonderfully; that answer was far from the truth. I am _miserable_. Lonely. Detestful. A coward. For I've loved two women in my lifetime so far, and I was stupid enough or careless enough to have lost both of them. And I am good enough for neither. But I need you to know... that I have loved you every _second_ of every _minute_ of every hour of every _day_ of the past ten years, and I have spent every moment missing you."_

_ Snow had wanted nothing more than to hear him say those words for an entire decade. And, finally, they had come. She wiped away the remainder of her tears and stood, still holding onto his hands. "Would you care to dance, Eric?"_

_ Eric stood and gave her a weak smile, and she saw that his eyes were wet. "I would be honored, Your Majesty."_

_ She led him out to the center of the dance floor and drew herself close to him, pressing her frail body to his and resting her head on his chest. He pressed his palm to the small of her back gently, testing the waters, and eventually he closed his eyes and rested his chin atop her head, scooting the crown backwards slightly._

_ They held each other and swayed to the music for a very long time __–_ long after the people had called it a night and the music stopped and the band packed up their instruments and left and the castle went to sleep.

* * *

This is how Snow White's life was to play out had Eric not walked through the door at that very moment.

But, thankfully, he did.

"_Snow_?"

Snow immediately swiveled towards the direction of Eric's voice. He stood in the doorway, his satchel around his shoulder. He threw it to the ground and crouched down next to her. His expression looking more worried than ever.

She stood at once, reaching for him as he stood, too. "Eric! I thought you'd gone!" She felt herself smile... but then remembered the contents of the letter in her hands.

"What are you doing?" he asked. "Why are you here?"

"I left the wedding... and I found _this_!" She shook the letter in his face angrily.

His eyes were immediately downcast. "You weren't supposed to see that until after you were married."

"I will not be getting married today." She crumpled the letter up and threw it to the ground. And when she looked back up at Eric, he no longer looked guilty. He looked angry.

"You must think me powerless to refuse you, but it is not so, Snow! You _are_ to marry him! And I _do_ love you, but I won't stay here and watch you live a happy life with him! And watch you start a family with him... I_ won't_ do it! So don't you _dare_ ask it of me!"

"You're not _hearing_ me, Eric!" She stomped her foot childlishly, much like she'd done the night she'd gone in search of him outside the gates after her coronation ball.

He knelt down to pick up his satchel. "I've said my goodbyes to you, Snow. And they we're pretty damn good ones, might I add. It'd be a shame to ruin them with these."

"I _said_, I will _not_ be getting married today, you big ignoramous!"

Eric said nothing. He just stood there in the threshold, staring at her with a crazed expression. His muscles were tense _–_ she could see the veins popping out of his neck, his arms. "William has said that he will not marry me."

"And why is that?" His voice sounded disbelieving, unconvinced. But also... accusatory?

"He was angry at first. He confronted me and I thought he might storm out, but he still went along with the whole thing... for the sake of my father, I think... Then I think he saw how sad I was and... He found a way around the will, one I had not seen before. He... he set me free!" She didn't even attempt to stop herself as she strode towards him and took his face in her hands. She could fill her eyes welling up, but she didn't care.

Eric stepped backwards, away from her touch. "And on what means did William act so selflessy?" Still angry-sounding. Still unsure.

"He loves me. He couldn't bare to see me in such pain at his expense." She stepped backwards from him, watching her feet as she did. "And there is nothing quite as lonely as being in a marriage with someone who doesn't love you back."

And when she looked back up at him, there was sadness in his eyes. "I disagree. There is something far lonelier."

Snow was immediately reminded of Eric's Sarah and frowned. "If you leave it up to me, you will never be lonely, ever again."

"I can't let you give up everything for me."

"But by giving you up, I will surely be giving up everything. Can't you see that?" And that's when it occured to her that maybe he_ did_ want to leave. Sure, they had their fun. But he was no knight, no captain. He was a commoner! A huntsman! And maybe that's all he ever wanted to be. It's what he'd said in his letter, after all. "But it's_ you_ who will be giving everything up by staying here. Your village, your home, your trade? This cannot be the life you've envisioned for yourself."

He sighed, a tired sound. "It is not."

And there it was. Confirmation. "Then do not let me keep you here any longer." She turned her back from him, not wanting him to see her tears.

"I am no good for you, Snow! I am not fit to court a queen! Or marry one... Could you picture it? Me, a king?"

Snow didn't answer him.

"I thought not," he said. "And that is why I must go. Because you can picture William a king. And not me."

"You are wrong."

"And what if I don't want to be king?" He spoke the words slowly, testing the waters.

She swiveled back to face him. "I don't know what you are trying to _do_, Eric! Are you trying to say anything to make me go back to the life you think I should have? Are you trying to make excuses so that I'll just let you waltz out of this room? Out of my life? Before the wedding, before the letter, before any of it... You said to me that I should do what _I_ want for me! And damn everyone else's expectations! So when do I get to decide that? What _I_ want for me?"

He ran a hand through his hair, rubbed it across the back of his neck. He knew she was right. She'd thrown his own words back at him, and it had obviously made him uncomfortable. "And if I asked you to hand the crown to William and run away with me? Would you do it?"

She swallowed. "Yes. I would."

"You're lying. You won't abandon your kingdom."

She stepped towards him bravely, daringly. Challenging him. "And you won't ask me to."

His voice was soft then, as he asked, "Are you absolutely certain that a life with me is what you desire?"

"Isn't it clear? I left my _wedding_ for you, Eric. But I think the better question is... are _you_ certain?"

He must've sensed the pain in her eyes because his brows furrowed and his lips curled downward. "My letter clearly hurt you. And I need you to know that it was full of falsehoods, I... I just wanted to make my leaving seem easier for you! I'd rather you hate me forever than miss me miserably forever... And William threatened to have my head if I ever returned. I am not afraid of him, I just wouldn't want you to ever have to witness that side of him, and that's why I kept his exact threat out of my letter. I realize that it probably wasn't the smartest thing, the letter... but I had to make up some kind of reason for... I couldn't stand the thought of you waiting and waiting and me never returning and you coming to the conclusion that I'd grown to feel indifferently, and I_–_"

Snow took his face in her small hands and closed the remaining space between them, silencing him with her kiss. He wrapped his arms around her as tightly as he could, holding her to him as if it were life and death.

"I will forgive you for the letter if you promise to stay," she whispered against his lips.

"Always," came his reply.

* * *

Eric snuck in the back of the throne room, which was pretty simple due to all the commotion. People had started wandering about, gossiping, asking questions which no one knew the answers to. The Duke sat on the steps to the altar, a seemingly perplexed look on his face. William was pacing the stage, hands clasped behind his back.

The room gradually fell silent as their queen walked back up the aisle, their concerns and accusations turning to whispers, and then silence, as she passed them. As she climbed the steps to the altar, the sound of her footsteps echoed through the deathly quiet room.

William rushed to her. He said nothing, but the look in his eyes spoke volumes. Snow grinned and nodded once, then darted her eyes towards the back of the room, motioning for William to look in that direction. He let out a relieved sigh when he saw that Eric was there, and when he looked back, Snow gave him a look that said, "_I know what you did, and I will talk to you about it later_." William grimaced and gave her an apologetic look. And then she turned to face the crowd.

They were all looking upon her _–_ some worried and anxious, some unamused and annoyed. She took a deep breath, willing the right words to come to her, much as they had that night Eric's kiss awoke her and she marched outside to rally her troops. If she could get the people to agree with her then, maybe she could convince them to agree with her now when the matter was of slightly lesser importance.

"I thank you all for your tremendous patience, and I am sorry for alarming you all. The matter has been taken care of, and there is no need for your worry. As you may have guessed, William and I are not to be wed today. We offer our sincere apologies to anyone we might've fooled, but we are not in love. We do not wish to be married, despite what my father wrote in his will. And I truly hope that none of you resent me for disobeying him, but the last thing I want is to live a life of dishonesty before you. I hope you can respect that I want nothing more than to make each and every one of you proud to call me your honest and trustworthy queen."

All was silent for a few moments as everyone looked from Snow to each other and back, trying to decide what to make of her speech. She was beginning to think that they weren't accepting of it _–_ of any of it _–_ and she shot the dwarves a pleading look. Just then, someone started clapping slowly from the back of the crowd. Snow craned her neck to see who it was, but now Gort was clapping... and Duir and Quert... and then another, and then another... and before she knew it, the whole room had joined in the applause.

They were proud of her.

And then, one by one, the dwarves began kneel to her, and, one by one, everyone else followed suit. Even William was kneeling at her feet! Snow was so grateful for their approval that she didn't even realize she was crying until she tasted salty tears within her smile. How could she ever show them the deepness of her gratitude? And then she had an idea.

"Please rise, for I have another announcement." She felt William's gaze hot on her, but she didn't care. "The decorators and cooks and everyone that was involved in putting together this wedding all spent such a long time... It'd be a shame to let all their hard work go to waste! So let us make use of it all, shall we?"

The people all jumped up and cheered.

The ball room was decorated much like the throne room had been, in burgundy, navy, and gold. Two long tables stretched the lengths of opposing walls, each one holding dozens of special delicacies. The band was set up near the front of the room, and they were instructed to not stop playing until the last person left the dance floor.

Everyone was shouting and feasting and dancing and drinking and laughing, and as she looked upon them all, Snow was the happiest she had ever been.

She turned when she felt a tap on her shoulder. Eric smiled broadly and held out a hand to her. "May I have this dance, Highness?"

Snow laughed and curtsied and placed her hand in his. "Of course you may. But I thought you didn't dance, huntsman?"

He smirked. "I may have lied." When she gave him a look, he raised a brow and said, "I wasn't always a grumpy slob, you know."

Eric pulled Snow to him and began to spin her around the room, surprising her with his footwork. She laughed and squealed and held on to him for dear life, panting heavily when they eventually slowed to a waltz.

"This whole party thing was a grand idea, Snow. Really. They'd all be ridiculous not to forgive you now. Although, I believe I might've had a little something to do with it."

Snow squinted her eyes at him, but she could not cease her smile. "What do you mean?"

Eric smirked at her, and his eyes were dancing. "The slow applause added a nice touch, don't you think?"

She gasped, her smile widening even more. "That was you?"

"Aye."

"Well, it seems my entire rule is indebted to you, good sir!"

He leaned in closer and whispered, "I can think of a few good ways you can repay me a little later." A shiver ran up her spine.

She tore her gaze away from his, not wanting him to see how flustered his promise had made her, when she saw William dancing with another across the room. And her heart didn't flutter, and it didn't sink, and she was pleased to find that she was genuinely happy that he was enjoying himself. And then he spun the girl, and her long, red tresses waved in the air around her. Snow smiled. Greta.

She nodded towards them, showing Eric. "What do you suppose to make of that? My lady-in-waiting and the young duke?"

"How fitting," he said. "And us, the huntsman and the queen."

She turned to him, realizing he had referred to himself as huntsman instead of Captain. "Are you still the standing captain of my guards?"

"I'm afraid I cast that duty onto another early this morning."

"Well, then. What to do with you?" she asked, her smirk devilish.

"I very well cannot be on your court. I am far to wreckless and irrational, so we can rule out that option."

She laughed. "What of an advisor?"

He scoffed at her playfully. "An advisor of what? The law? I am hardly one for such a job."

"Well, there are plenty of other kinds of advisors," she said, unrelenting.

"And what of these advisors that specialize in certain kind of matters unpertaining to the law? Are there ones that advise the queen in more personal matters? Matters of the heart?"

As if on cue, Snow's heart skipped a beat. "That kind of advisor would surely shed a little light on how a huntsman should openly court the queen under the public's curious eyes."

"I think he might say..." Eric drew in dangerously close, causing Snow's breath to hitch, "to shock them."

"Are you positive?" she whispered. "Once we make our love public, there is no going back."

"Snow, the moment I met you in the Dark Forest, I knew there was no going back."

And then he pressed his lips to hers, right there in front of God and everybody. And as the queen, Snow should've broken off the kiss when the people nearby started staring and pointing and whispering to each other. She should've stepped out of Eric's embrace when a few that stood around them whooped and clapped and drew attention to them. But she hardly minded, as one delirious under the spell of being blissfully happy seldom does.

* * *

**A/N:** Tada! Thank you to all of my lovely readers and reviewers! I have truly enjoyed writing this story, and you lot have all been so good to me that I don't wanna leave it! But I feel like if I keep dragging it on, it will lose its point. I may come back with an epilogue... I'm not sure yet. Either way, I hope this ending was satisfactory to you all. I will really miss writing this! xo


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